The Nightwing DRAFT
by ZombieDinosaur
Summary: In the aftermath of Bane's terrorism, a city looks for a hero. Robin John Blake is thrown into taking up the mantle of the Batman. But something holds him back. But a new knight must rise as an eccentric billionaire arrives in Gotham City. His motives are strangely hidden and he appears to be the shining knight in Gotham's dark hours as Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze wreck havoc.
1. Prologue and ONE

**Prologue**

"I see a beautiful city and brilliant people _rising_ from the abyss…"

Former detective John Blake meditated on those words as he listened to the Commissioner read from his copy of **A Tale of Two Cities. **He wore a grim expression.

"I see that I hold sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of the descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known…"

The funeral for Mr. Bruce Wayne was a solemn one. Only true friends came to pay their respects. Only four people came.

Not many people made the connection that Batman was Bruce Wayne. Too many others were killed during Bane's terrorism that it seemed only natural that the last of the Wayne dynasty was killed. No body was recovered. No tabloids really pressured to know the death of Bruce Wayne.

"He wasn't rich…why the hell should I give a shit."

"Wayne? Didn't Bane kill him?"

"I thought Wayne died years ago…"

These were the common remarks of the people of Gotham. Nobody cared. Nobody wanted to know.

What was really buzzing around was the death of the Batman and what the people of Gotham thought of their hero.

"He was a guardian. With us 'til the very end. The Batman might have disappeared from us in those 8 years…but he was never really gone. He is still not gone. But I can assure you. He was a hero. Not the hero we deserved, but the hero we needed. And it will indeed be a long time before we find another like him. God Bless Batman," said the Commissioner at the unveiling of a granite statue for the Batman made in his honor.

At last Gotham knew who its true hero was.

Blake slipped into the lawyer's office just as the will was being read. Mr. Fox and Alfred were there along with the lawyer. He heard that the valuables of Mr. Wayne were to be given to Alfred J. Pennyworth. Everything else was to be given to Wayne Enterprises. Pretty much whatever money Mr. Wayne had left, which wasn't much. Blake sat there…hoping that something would be done with the Boy's Home. And, as if on cue, they were. The house itself was left to the city of Gotham and its only purpose would be the housing and care of the city's at-risk and orphaned children. Blake remembered stopping outside the manor in the days that passed and seeing a sign. It read:

**THE THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE HOME FOR CHILDREN. **

After the reading of Wayne's will, Blake stopped in front of the attorney who pointed to a young woman at the end of the desk. The clerk smiled as he approached the desk. He smiled back.

"Blake, John?" he asked. He wasn't expecting much of anything. Maybe a useless knick-knack or something. The clerk looked at her list.

"I'm afraid we have nothing for you here," she said. He frowned and pulled out his ID.

"Try my legal name," he said. The clerk looked at his name on the ID and checked her list again.

"Yep, here it is. One minute please," she said. Blake waited for what seemed like seconds. She was back in an instant carrying a large sport's bag. Blake was shocked and stunned to see this bag that Wayne left him. It had some weight to it. He began to turn away.

"Wait, your ID," said the clerk holding out the card. Blake smiled and took it. "By the way, you should use your full name. I that name…Robin."

Blake smiled. His full name was Robin Jonathan Blake, but he always liked the name John better. Much like his mother who was named Martha Elizabeth, he took to the second name. It seemed better suited for a cop.

Then again…he wasn't a cop anymore.

He sprinted to his car. Eager to find out what was in the bag. He opened it to find climbing ropes and gear. On top was a note that read:

You any good at _spelunking?_

There was a set of coordinates and an address underneath the message. This seemed strange to Blake. The address was one he knew very well. It was Wayne Manor.

The woods were miles outside the city. Blake traveled along the road desperately following the GPS. He punched in the coordinates, not knowing where he would end up. When there was no more road to follow, Blake got out of his car and proceeded into the woods. He assumed that there would definitely be some hiking involved in his trip. He held the bag of climbing gear in one hand and the GPS in another.

_Ok, Wayne, _he thought, _let's see what you have to show me. _

After several minutes of retracing his steps, Blake arrived at a very impressive waterfall. Gallons of water fell in torrents down to the rocky cliffs below. The spray of the water feeling refreshing on Blake's face. He checked the GPS once more. There was nowhere to go but up. He uncoiled the ropes and emptied the bag.

Gordon walked along the roof of the GCPD building like he often did many years ago as he waited for a friend. He knew what he would find up there. Only pain. Memories of the past. A shattered spotlight. Nothing more than a reminder that he was left to face Gotham's upcoming storms alone. But Bane taught him something. In Gotham, there is no such thing as peace time. He carried a large stack of files under his arm. Adjusting his glasses he looked up the where the spotlight was…and his jaw dropped.

A brand new spotlight stood where the old one was. He dropped the files and walked over to it. He rubbed his hands along the newly refurbished Bat-Symbol sprawled across the middle of it. He remembered those distant words.

"Light it up"

Gordon looked down at the switch and pressed the button. The light turned on and the Bat-Symbol shone brightly in the night sky.

Perhaps he wouldn't have to do this alone after all.

Blake burst through the waterfall and landed flat on his feet. He quickly unhooked himself and looked around. There was a passage and he could swear that there was a light coming within.

Wayne had led him here for a reason. And Blake knew he was going to find out why.

He continued towards the light.

Blake pulled out a flare to give him light. He lit the flare and raised it high to see the ceiling of the cave.

A fury of noise and movement surrounded him and engulfed him. Leather wings flapped all around as Blake began to realize that he was enclosed by the swarm of bats who were desperately trying to escape the light. Blake ducked down to avoid them as he watched them escape. He was frightened at first and then he rose and embraced them.

Blake suddenly realized why Wayne brought him here.

Bats were more than symbols of fear. They were meant to show justice and hope in Gotham. And a legend that was bigger than one man. A hero could be anyone.

He looked on past the bats and saw a platform down below. He realized that this was the source of the light. He slowly walked down there and stood on the platform.

Automatically, the platform began to rise to a higher place. Blake saw that a secret lab was above and in a corner, another secret revealed itself. The Batman suit.

Blake closed his eyes, now knowing his destiny.

The new hero began to rise.

**ONE**

3 months later…

The storm clouds were gathering. The sky was dark and gloomy. Rain hit the pavement in drenching sheets. The cars were moving much slower. Mist was beginning to descend on the city. Thunder boomed in the distance but other than that it was a light storm.

A black Mercedes parked along the road. A man wearing a long trench coat got out. He was tall, fit, and bald, giving him a pretty frightening appearance. He hated that stereotype. Just because he's bald doesn't mean he's going to kill someone. He grabbed the briefcase out of the car and began walking towards the restaurant.

The inside of the establishment was most impressive. Victor removed his trench coat and held it in his arms. He was wearing an expensive looking suit underneath.

Dr. Victor Fries was a businessman. Sure he was a scientist, but there's a reason he chose to major in cellular biology. It was more than a mere hobby. He had to look to the future. And the future seemed to revolve around chemistry and, in Fries' opinion, suspended animation. He knew this. He could have majored in applied physics or hell, botany. He liked plants. But plants don't pay the bills. And plants don't make you famous.

Victor looked out and scanned for the table where he would be meeting his friend. He smiled.

"Victor, so very good to see you again," said the man. He had dark brown hair and a bushy mustache. The other man smiled as he approached the man. He extended a hand.

"How are you doing, Mark?" said Victor. Mark grasped his hand and shook it.

"Now, now, take a load off and stay awhile. You look like you're freezing, Victor," said Mark.

"Not as much as you. I do have to compliment you on pleasantries," said Victor. Mark laughed.

Dr. Mark Desmond was nothing more than a cellular biologist. He knew a thing or two about chemistry. He was a scientist. He didn't care about the money. It was the dirty work that Desmond took pride in. Desmond was a young. Even though the two men met in grad school, Victor always looked and seemed older. He was bald, or very near there, before he got his doctorate degree. Still the two men shared a passion.

Creation. Making something new. Something that the world had never seen before. And come hell or high water, Fries was going to give it to them.

The waiter came to the table and the two men ordered their meals and drinks. No appetizers. Fries didn't want to get too full.

"You wanted to show me something?" asked Fries. Desmond smiled.

"Victor, I always have something to show you. Remember you're plan?" Desmond asked.

"My plan was a successful trial of mammalian suspended animation," said Fries. "Preferably humans."

"And we're close," said Desmond. Victor eyed him.

"How close?" he asked.

Desmond smiled again. "Why don't I show you what we've been working on?" Desmond grabbed his briefcase and pulled out a packet of papers. Lab reports from the looks of it.

"No freak shows this time, right?" asked Fries. Desmond shook his head.

"No, our tests have been relatively small," said Desmond. The waiter returned with drinks.

"How small?" Fries asked.

"You remember the first experiment we had, right? With the ants? A child can do it. You grab a couple ants and place them in the freezer. Take them out after a few minutes and they look dead because the basic functions are slowed down and essential the entire organism goes into hibernation. But…put it back in heat and the organism reanimates. As did the ants," said Desmond.

"It's old news but still progress," said Fries. "Have you done anything past basic insects?"

Desmond frowned.

"Successful or failed attempts?" Desmond asked.

"Successful, of course," said Fries. He wasn't here to have Desmond explain the recent history of the lab. He had other places he could be. If his lab seemed to yield results, then he would think about continuing the research. If not…it would be time to move on. Fries took a sip from his drink.

"We've tried larger insects which have worked successfully; cockroaches, flies, you name it, we've tested it. And then we tried mice with the same technique," said Desmond.

"Let me guess, rat-sickles?" said Fries. Desmond nodded.

"So…we tried to chemically induce those symptoms using roughly 80 ppm of hydrogen sulfide."

"Wait a minute, wouldn't that kill the subjects?" Fries asked. Desmond smiled.

"You'd think so…but we got a positive result. The breathing rate of the animals sank from 120 to 10 breaths per minute and their temperature fell from thirty seven degrees Celsius to just two degrees Celsius above ambient temperature," said Desmond.

"So…in a sense, they were coldblooded," said Fries. Desmond paused for a moment. Reflecting on the success of this experiment.

"Yes. They were. They were in a successful suspended animation state. Hibernating, if you will," said Desmond. This was remarkable. Mice are some of the only mammals that don't hibernate. And to make mice hibernate is amazing. Desmond was quite proud of this achievement.

"For how long?" asked Fries

"For nearly 6 hours!" exclaimed the scientist. Fries smiled. This was the best news he heard so far. The actual idea that a successful trial has indeed occurred is…remarkable.

"Dear God…really? And they kept the same steady heart rate and breathing?" asked Fries. Desmond pulled out another document.

"Its official, Victor, six hours…" said Desmond. Fries scanned over the document eyeing the results. He was absolutely stunned.

"I'm assuming the test subjects survived?" Fries asked.

"They did. And the subjects have no negative health effects. They're back to normal," said Desmond. Fries was extremely excited.

"And their blood pressure?" Fries asked.

"No significant drops in blood pressure. I'm telling you, Vic, they're fine. It's as if nothing happened," said Desmond. "And that's not the half of it…we repeated the experiment on brain damaged rats from a chemically induced stroke. In 48 hours, it reduced the extent of the brain damage," said Desmond. Fries was even more fascinated.

"You're kidding? Oh my God, Mark…so…we're ready then?" Fries said with excitement. Desmond shook his head.

"We need to do a few more tests…but we should be ready to start human trials in about a month," said Desmond. "What we really need is more money to fund more experiments. I want to start doing tests with larger mammals like pigs. But…our budget is running low."

Fries smiled.

"Don't worry, my friend. You have my support. I'm going to fund your experiments," said Fries.

Desmond raised his glass as he smiled.

"A toast then…to the future of Gotham City! To the two men who will cure cancer," said Desmond. Fries noticed there food was arriving. They clinked glasses and drank. The waiter delivered the food as Fries looked on hungrily.

"Where do we begin?" he said with a smile. This was the greatest meeting of his career.

But…Fries knew why he was doing this…there was someone who needs this treatment. Someone who he loves with all his heart. Someone who was lying in a hospital bed…slowly dying.


	2. TWO

**TWO**

"The Batman? No...he's dead. They got that statue to prove it...There was a nuke. He's gone. No way he got outta there in time...Another one? Why the hell would Batman need a successor? He's a freak in a cape...Yeah the shipment's here...it's waiting for you...well find a way to get here quicker..." the man ended the call. He pulled his coat around him.

_3 months,_the man thought, _3 months since the Bat died. Why would he get scared on me after 3 months? Old habits die hard_.

The man looked back at the three others who were loading crates off of the back of a truck. It was dark. Except for the moon. It was cold. Middle of winter. The man called out to the others.

"Hey! Dumb asses! Be careful with those crates!" he yelled. "Cost me a fortune!"

The man looked back. He could've picked a better location. The ship yard wasn't exactly the best place. He didn't want anyone hearing things they shouldn't be hearing. There was a roof that he often looked at across from their location. A pretty great distance. He looked down away from the roof and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He pulled out his lighter and lit one. He looked up back to the roof adjacent to him.

There was a man on the roof. He wasn't standing. He was kneeling. The man got nervous. He almost swallowed his cigarette. He dropped it and looked to his henchmen.

"Jesus! It's him! Guard the supplies! Grab a gun!" said the man. One of the henchmen came over.

"Where is he, Wallis?"

"He's up ther-" but as the first man looked back, the man on the roof was gone. "God...I'm losing it...hate that damn Bat. Could've sworn I saw someone right there on that roof not a minute ago." said Wallis. "Keep unloading."

The men kept unloading.

There was a man on the roof. Wearing nothing more than a ski mask. Blake didn't feel comfortable wearing Wayne's suit. He needed practice before he could be the Batman. If that's who he wanted to do. But...he didn't do it. He couldn't do it. He would report to the cops. Hell, he was a cop. Gordon trusted him. He was wearing the suit of a dead man. Batman was dead. This city has a hero. They look up to him. Why should some amateur replace him? The man began to climb down and lost his footing. And hit the ground hard. He moaned in pain. After realizing nothing was broken, he got up and dusted himself.

He then looked and saw five or six kids playing basketball nearby who were stunned by the masked man's appearance. "Yeah...don't try that at home..."

_Old habits die hard_

**_…_**

"There have been a flurry of reports that a new masked man is running around the streets of Gotham. Citizens are beginning to wonder if this is Batman…or someone new…"

"Well, we know that the Batman was just a man. Who he was, we don't know. We might never truly know. But if he's not dead. If he's back. It might give Gotham hope…"

"It's one of his copycats. We've seen them before and they're just trying to get attention…"

"The masked man currently hasn't been doing the crime fighting that the Batman once did…it is safe to assume that this is merely a copycat…"

Commissioner James Gordon cycled through the channels on his television. The talk shows, the news, everyone was talking about some new guy. Gordon didn't care. He heard of the copycats before. It could be Kyle running around the rooftops. People are desperate to see a hero rise from the ashes. He wanted that as well. But, it's been 3 months. If Bruce had survived…if he really wanted to take the mantle back…he would have.

The news wasn't anything to be excited about.

**…**

John Blake knocked on the door of the former Wayne Manor. He shook his head. The daylight wasn't something he was used to. Not after his recent adventures. The place looked much more cheerful.

A familiar face answered the door.

"Can I help you, sir?" said the familiar voice. Blake looked up into the face of the old butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Blake smiled.

"I was actually here to see Father Reilly. Is he present?" Blake asked. Alfred let the young man in.

"I'm afraid Father Reilly had some errands to run. He should be back momentarily," said the butler. Blake walked around the manor. He heard the distant cheers and laughter from afar.

"I thought you would've left this place far behind," said Blake. Alfred closed the door. He turned to Blake.

"I tried to. But…let's just say I found a reason to stay," said Alfred. He smiled.

Alfred was hiding something. Shortly after the death of Bruce Wayne, he went to a café in Italy. It was the same one he told Bruce about. He sat down and ordered his drink. Across the table he saw a man that was indeed very familiar to him.

Bruce Wayne and Selinia Kyle. They were happy. But most importantly, Alfred was happy. Not for himself, but that his master had found peace. They didn't speak to one another, although he desperately wanted to ask how he was able to escape. He simply acknowledged them with a polite nod in their direction. To which Bruce did the same. The two men parted.

Blake eyed him suspiciously. His detective skills were working.

"You're not telling me something," said Blake. "Something about Mr. Wayne. He survived…didn't he?"

Alfred paused for a moment. He nodded slightly.

"Is he coming back?" Blake asked.

"No…" said Alfred. "It's your turn now."

Blake looked off in the distance. He sighed. Thinking about his previous nights in town.

"I'm not going to be what Bruce was. People had their Batman. They need a new hero. They need a new look," said Blake. "I need help."

Alfred smiled. The young detective reminded him of his former master.

"Might I suggest a visit to Wayne Enterprises. Mr. Fox might be able to help you out there," said Alfred. "And I'm assuming you had no trouble finding the place?"

Blake shook his head.

"Spelunking has always been a passion of mine," said Blake.

**…**

Gotham General was a target during The Joker's reign of chaos. But, in the 8 years that passed, Gotham General had been completely rebuilt along with a second hospital named Gotham Memorial Hospital to remember those who were killed during the attacks by The Joker. However, Fries pulled up to the first hospital. He got out of the car and began walking towards the hospital. He already knew what he would find.

He walked up to the front desk. A blonde woman sat behind it. She knew who he was. He spent most of his spare time here. He practically lived here.

"Hello, Mr. Fries," said the receptionist, but Victor ignored her. He continued walking down the hall.

Victor approached a patient room. The lights were off except a mere side lamp. A woman was lying in hospital bed. The hospital had that usually smell. But Victor hated the place. His wife deserved better…she needed to be cured. He turned the door knob and walked into the room. The woman in the bed looked to be in her late thirties. Fries grabbed a nearby chair and sat down next to his wife. He put a hand on her gently. He would have given anything to take her place. He remembered when he was told the news.

"She has what?" Fries asked in astonishment.

"Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, Mr. Fries," said the doctor.

"And it's incurable?" asked Fries. The doctor nodded. Fries looked on through the operating room.

"She's got maybe a year left…I'm sorry, Victor," said the doctor.

That was nearly a year ago. 11 months to be exact. Fries had been looking all across town for a way to treat this. He started with his own studies. And finally, after his lunch with Desmond, he seemed to have a cure. The woman stirred and looked at him. She smiled. She had light blond hair and blue eyes. He smiled back.

"Nora…" he said. "I have great news…we're close…we…we had a successful trial. Mark's going to pull through. I will save you. I love you so much."

Fries rubbed her hand. He could've sworn he head her speak.

"I know you will, Victor…" he assumed that's what his wife said, bearly audible. He kissed her on the head and left the room.

Nora closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek.


	3. THREE

**THREE**

**Before I begin this chapter, which took a lot of prep work, I want to say a few things. First off, I appreciate the reviews. I am constantly updating the previous chapters and revising things. So, this story changes almost every day. Secondly, Poison Ivy and Freeze are the villains of this story. I am well aware that these two villains were used in the very poorly made Batman and Robin movie of the 90s. I can assure you; if I copied anything from that film it was merely the two villains. These two will not be working together. This is a dark chapter. For Poison Ivy, she will not have her plant powers. Which may seem like a shock to many of you…but I have different plans for her. Hence the dark chapter. There will be some material that may be unsuitable for younger audiences. Violence will ensue. By the way, I've envisioned Kirsten Dunst (Spiderman, Spiderman 2, and Spiderman 3) Scarlett Johansson (The Avengers) or Sigourney Weaver (Aliens, Avatar) playing this role. **

"Why study plants? All across the globe, fascinating life forms are scattered. Why should one focus their time, effort, and money on the things beneath our feet? Plants are more than just life forms. They form our very lives," said the red headed woman at the front of the large classroom.

Dr. Pamela Isely had taught at Gotham University for several years. Yet she was only in her mid-thirties. She was young in the eyes of most of her colleagues. But it didn't matter. She had a PhD in botany in one hand and a bachelor's in education in the other. She knew what she was talking about.

"Can anyone give me an example of plant use?" she asked the crowd of half-asleep nineteen and twenty year olds. She scanned the crowd. As usual, hands didn't sky rocket into the air. She sighed. A hand rose. It belonged to a modest young man who definitely needed a haircut. Black hair reached almost to his shoulders and he was sporting a goatee of the same color.

"Drugs," the young man stated. Isely rolled her eyes. She could've guessed that's what he'd say.

"Yes. Some plants do have…medical…purposes. Some plants can have other…purposes revolving around that category. These can be taken from anything such as poppy seeds to fungus to the entire plant itself. In fact, Coca-Cola originally had cocaine in it. Might think twice about what you drink," she stated. Then she looked back at the stereotypical drug addict who raised his hand. "Or not. Another example?" Isely began to walk around the room. Another male student raised his hand. He was much more stout that the last one.

"Food…" he said quietly. There were numerous giggles around the room.

"You would, fat-ass," said another male. Isely scowled at the students. She rolled her eyes.

_Children, _she thought.

"Food. Every form of fauna needs it. Even though some children might protest, plants are a great and healthy source of food. 95% of all of our food comes from plants; whether that is rice, wheat, corn, potatoes, etc. We use it. We need it. Plants are a primary source of vitamins A, C, and B complex. Plants are a life form we can't live without. Many people have their entire diets revolve around plants. And studies have shown that vegetarians live well into their nineties. Plants work in mysterious ways. Many varieties of plants can be eaten. From beans to leaves to roots to fruit. You just need to watch what you eat. Some of them might be poisonous."

Isely thought that the concept of poisonous plants might interest her students. It was her current field of research. Discovering various types of poisons that affect the human body was something she found most fascinating. But before she could utter another word, the bell rang.

"Have a good day!" she said. Once all her students left, a man lingered in the doorway. She smiled as she began packing up. "It's impolite to linger in doorways, Mark," said Isely. Desmond approached her.

He had been friends with Isely much longer than Fries. They went to the same school together. Pamela knew that and yet she didn't want to be bothered by her old friend. Mark made his way to the front table.

"New semester?" he asked. Pam looked up from stuffing her books in her bag. She powered down her laptop.

"You don't know the half of it," she said. "I'm dealing with children."

"Been there…did all of that. Why do you think I didn't apply to be a professor here?" said Desmond. Isely threw her laptop case over her shoulder and began to walk out of the room.

"I don't know, Desmond. Perhaps it's because you'd rather be playing with chemicals then earn an honest living," said Isely. Desmond smirked.

"I have you know those chemicals are going to save lives. I might already be saving one…" said Desmond. Isely paused for a moment. She knew all too well about Victor and Nora Fries. She didn't approve of Victor's methods or the fact that he had little faith if one organization wasn't yielding the results he needed. He was a project manager. He simply has to smile and look pretty and he'll get paid.

"How is the laziest man in Gotham doing these days? Still funding your research for those unorthodox methods?" said Isely. Desmond was irritated by this remark.

"Pam, he's losing his wife. I think you'd be a little hesitant to work while a family member was ill. I know I would," he said as he wrapped his arms around Pam.

"Hold up there, tiger. My boss would fire me if he saw me doing this," said Pam releasing herself from Desmond's arms. She turned and smiled at him. "You know I love you." She kissed him briefly and then turned. "We still on for dinner tonight?"

"I think so. Where do you want to go?" he asked. Pam shrugged her shoulders.

"You pick," Isely said. "I have to run. Staff meeting. You go run along and play with your chemicals. Save the damsel in distress. All that heroics."

Isely rushed out of the room. She was going to be a few minutes late, but she knew this the moment Desmond got there.

**...**

The cars raced past the window of her office, she was late. Much later than she anticipated, but she had to finish something. Something very important to her. Isely walked over to a small rose bush that was on the window sill. She held a cup of water.

"Hey there, baby. You're looking healthy. You will grow in time. You always do," she said. She watered the plant and then put a radio next to the plant. She clicked the power button. Beethoven's 5th played loudly through the room. She closed her eyes.

"Good night, my dear," she said. Isely grabbed her bag and proceeded to the front lobby.

The dark night sky was empty. The night was dark. No moon shone in the sky. The only light source was the street lamps cascading a yellowish glow upon the streets. Pam walked out of the University and down the steps towards her car. She fumbled with her keys. A cat call greeted her ears.

"What're you doing out here so late, red delicious?" the man asked behind her, obviously hinting to her red hair. She smiled nervously. She knew what this guy was. It was a dark night in Gotham. There was no hiding it.

"You're too kind," she said nicely. She unlocked the car and got in quickly. But before she could close the door, the man's arm stopped her. He formed an evil started.

"Where you going, baby? I think we were hitting it off," said the man. He climbed into the car. Isely began to scream but the man grasped her throat.

"You make a sound, I slit your throat," said the man pulling out a knife. He closed the door and locked it. "Now…where were we?" said the man as he began to remove his pants.

Outside the vehicle, a woman's screams were muffled but could still be heard. Screams that would go unanswered.


	4. FOUR

**FOUR**

**You might've thought that I abandoned this project. That it was done. You're sadly mistaken. I intend to finish this story. I thank everyone for their continued support. Not much to say about this chapter. It has a better ending than the last chapter. And there's so much to tell in this chapter. We're going to actually get to Nightwing finally! As a side note, I appreciate the reviews and greatly encourage them. Both positive and negative. I'm not perfect. I need to know what, if anything can be improved with this story. If you ever wish to give your opinion in a more direct way, please feel free to PM me or go on my forum, The Ultimate Batman RP Forum and go to The Nightwing Fanfic Talk Page and ask your questions there. Also, as a promotion for deviantart, I'll be putting a full screenplay of this novelization on their site. I actually prefer writing in script narrative instead of normal third person narrative. That's my latest plan. I'm aiming to have the script finished by Halloween 2012. That's when the novelization should be finished. Chapters will air a day here before they will on deviantart. To also promote .net. So, if anyone wants to continue reading the story here, they can. But, the screenplay will only be on . **

John Blake parked his car in the lower lot of Wayne Enterprises. He sighed. He didn't really know what to expect from this visit with Lucius Fox. He only really met the man once. And he didn't really have a conversation with Fox, he was merely in the same area. It was during Mr. Wayne's funeral. Which now Blake knew was a lie. Somehow, Bruce Wayne had managed to fix the autopilot of The Bat and he escaped just before it blew up. How he did…remains a mystery. It was certainly something Blake wanted to know. He was just hoping. Praying that he'd see Bruce Wayne one more. Just so he could have some assistance with this heroics. He'd been talking to Alfred. Trying to get as much as he could out of the old butler. But, Alfred would never disclose his former master's location. He was happy. And that's all that mattered.

But Blake needed more than that. Every time Alfred gave him the same response.

_If you're going to take up the mantle of Batman, you'll need to find your own path._

Blake didn't like it. He was often given orders about where to go and what to do. He lived life with simple everyday instructions. Before he was a detective…he had training. Ballistics and basic hand to hand combat…but not the acrobatics or martial arts of Batman. The most Blake could do was solve crimes and beat a few criminals up.

That wouldn't be enough. He needed more from Bruce. An address and a suit doesn't make Blake a hero…the knowledge and training does.

He opened the door of his car and got out. Heading towards Wayne Enterprises.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Blake," the white haired African American said. Blake found Fox's outfit to be very unique. He wore a beige suit with a reddish-orange bowtie. The man hid a smile behind his graying mustache.

"I heard that you're the man to go to for a suit," said Blake. Fox looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm not a tailor," said Fox. "But I can suggest one."

Blake figured Fox would play hard to get.

"I was looking more into Mr. Wayne's suit," said Blake. Lucius was caught. He looked around his small office recalling memories of a man asking the exact same thing.

"Mr. Wayne left you something?" Fox asked. Blake nodded.

"His responsibility," said Blake.

"What if I said I shut down the entire Applied Science Division?" asked Fox.

"Then I ask why you're still at Wayne Enterprises. . .this city needs a hero, Mr. Fox," said Blake. There was a pause.

"It had a hero. Batman is no longer needed, Mr. Blake," said Fox.

"You think Bane was the end? You think that Gotham won't need help. You're sadly mistaken, Mr. Fox. This city is going to keep pushing its limits. Thugs will get smarter. The mob will heal itself. This town will fall back into the same hole it was in eight years ago. This city needs a hero," said Blake. Fox realized he wasn't going to win.

"Clearly Bruce knew what he was doing when he chose you. Just be aware, Mr. Blake. This job ain't easy," said Fox. "Let me show you what's in stock."

The Applied Science Division was something truly masterful. After Bane took over, there wasn't much left in the budget for new technology. But Fox never showed Bruce Wayne everything. There were secrets in Wayne Enterprises. White plastic sheets covered a lot of the equipment. The Bat sat off in the corner, waiting to be flown again. Tumblers and gadgets were scattered across the room. The large football size garage was much different when Bruce Wayne found his way down here nearly 9 years ago. A much different man. A younger man. One might call him a rookie. Others, including Fox, would call him a hero.

The elevator opened very quietly as Blake and Fox stepped out into the echoing room. Blake's first reaction mimicked Bruce's. Astonishment. He began to walk around.

"So…this is it then?" asked Blake. Fox smiled.

"This is it. I would tell you the history of this division…but something tells me you're not interested in that," said Fox. Blake shook his head as he picked up the nearest gadget. It was a black, cylindrical mechanism with a blue glowing tip. To Blake, it resembled a police baton. "You're like a child in a toy store, Mr. Blake. You gotta play with all the toys."

Blake put the device down.

"Just out of curiosity, what exactly is that?" asked Blake.

"1974, a little after the Symbionese Liberation Army incident, the S.W.A.T teams were requesting a light-weight melee weapon that delivered electric shock to an enemy. Unfortunately, the technology of the time period restricted the development of such a device. So, when Wayne Enterprises got the money, they came up with this device. Unfortunately when the device was completed, no one would buy it so…here it sits. Shatterproof polymer material. It has the same strength as a steel beam. The tip is really interesting. There's an interior power cell that can be removed and charged. The amps range from .02-.04. Your typical taser. It has to make contact with the skin though. That's the only catch. Another reason it wasn't very popular amongst the military or law force," said Fox.

Blake looked at it. It caught his eye pretty quickly.

"Does it have a name?" he asked.

"Well…we were being really creative with this one. How's ESCRIMA sound?" asked Fox with a smile.

"Does that stand for something?" Blake asked.

"Electrical Surging Central Revolving Integrated Melee Apparatus. Or ESCRIMA. Sadly it's only the prototype stage. It hasn't been field tested. Hell…most of things in here haven't. So…you say you need a new suit?" Fox asked. Blake looked away from the ESCRIMA. He had a purpose for visiting Fox.

"I was wondering what was in stock," said Blake. Fox walked around the room. Blake looked around at the variety of other gadgets. Fox stopped by a cabinet and opened a drawer. He looked up at Blake.

"This what you were looking for?" asked Fox. Blake looked down at the suit.

It was very different from the Batman suit.

Sure it was made of the same materials. But there were new things. Different patterns.

"Still the same material of course. The rest speaks for itself," said Fox. "I have a feeling you'll find this to be useful."

"I think you're right…any idea how much this will cost?" Blake asked. Fox smiled.

"It's yours, son," said Fox. Blake smiled. "You better know what you're getting into. And…try to get some training."

Blake smiled.

Pamela Isely sat in darkness on her bed in her apartment. Tears stained her face. Used tissues littered the floor. She stared at the pregnancy test box sitting on the nightstand. The images of that night flashed in her mind. She grabbed the box.

_Please, God…don't let me have his child._

She opened the box and pulled one out. She wiped the tears from face. She slowly walked over to her bathroom.

The phone began to ring. One ring passed. Two rings passed. It kept ringing until it went to voice mail. A male voice echoed throughout the apartment.

"Hey, Pam. It's Mark. I'm worried about you. It's been about a week since anyone's seen you. We're worried about you, Pam. Jesus…I just wish you would pick up the phone, baby. This isn't like you. Please call me back. You know my number. I love you."

There was a beep and the apartment was silent again.

The bathroom door unclicked and Pamela stared at the pregnancy test. Tears streamed down her face. She threw the test against the wall and buried her head in a pillow on her bed.

A feint red plus was all it took to change her life.

**Don't worry. The next chapter will be here soon. And we'll be getting back to Mr. Fries. **


	5. FIVE

**FIVE**

**I decided to go back and change this chapter…answering a few plot holes, giving it more girth…all that sort stuff. Hopefully you like it. **

A hard bow knocked John Blake to the ground. He breathed hard as he wiped the sweat from his eyes.

"Again…" said a voice. Blake breathed hard as he rose from the floor. Three men surrounded him. The voice shouted something in another language and the men lunged at Blake. He blocked the first and parried the blow. He spun and delivered an uppercut at the second. But the third caught him off guard and he fell to the ground.

"Again!" yelled the voice.

"I can't!" Blake retaliated.

Silence. The voice speaks in the foreign language again and the men leave the dimly lit arena. Blake buries his head in his hands.

"Breathe," said the voice. Blake does so and slows his breathing. "You are not a weak man. You are weak at heart."

"This is not working. I'm not getting better," said Blake. A short man of Asian descent moves from the darkness into the light.

"Come," said the man. Blake rose off the floor and followed the man through a door which opened to an office. It took Blake aback. This wasn't what he was suspecting.

"John…you come to learn martial arts…to learn to defend yourself. But, you don't learn. I've taught you everything. You need discipline and you need practice. You need to get beaten a few times. You need to fall in order to rise," said the man. Blake nodded.

"I just…I don't think I can do this. I'm not cut out for it," said Blake.

"Not cut out? No one is cut out for this! It's not about destiny. Destiny can be changed. But skill…belief…persistence...that never changes. You can come back tomorrow…I will train you, Blake," said the man. Blake rose and walked towards the door.

"You never asked why I am doing this. Not once have you wondered or tried to convince me to stop," said Blake. The old man looked at him.

"Your reason is your reason. It is not my business to know. But I will ask this…if you walk away, why did you even begin?"

…

The sound of cars honking and the smell of the exhaust made Pamala Isley sick. It'd been at least a week since she left her house and when she did so, she couldn't let herself be seen. She wore a long tan trench coat, dark sunglasses, and a black sun hat. She walked through Gotham, with no real destination in mind. Her first stop, after twenty minutes of aimless wandering, was a dress store. Fancy and elaborate dresses and fabrics hung around the room. Isley looked at them and her eyes stopped on a bright emerald one. She cleared her throat as to get the attention of the store clerk.

"Yes, ma'am, did you need something?" said a petite brunette in her late twenties. Isley faked smiled.

"How much is that green dress there?" she asked.

"Oh, that's not for sale, miss…it's a prop. My mother made it herself. She is gone now. But we might be able to fix you up with a different green dress, miss," said the clerk. Isley faked smiled again.

"No that's alright. I'll just browse around," said Isley. The clerk smiled and went off to help another customer. Isley waited until her back was turned. She saw an emerald hat on the side table. He picked it up and, seeing as there was another woman nearby, she gently placed it in her purse. The woman didn't notice a thing. The woman began to walk out the door. But the clerk saw what was hanging out of her purse.

"Excuse me! Ma'am!" the clerk began to walk quickly after her. Isley didn't miss a beat. She grabbed the green dress, grabbed a bag from the counter, and left the shop. The clerk never saw her.

…

Blake walked into the cave and up onto the rising platform. He then dropped and began doing pushups. He had to work towards his goal. He had to make himself strong. One after the other, Blake kept going.

…

Isley walked into a store she was often familiar with; the florist. She walked past the rows of flowers and bushes and trees. Until she stopped next to one that seemed unlike any of the others. She bent down to smell it. But the florist saw this and immediately cautioned her against doing such a thing.

"Excuse me, miss. You shouldn't do that. This plant is extremely poisonous," said the florist.

"Oh really?" asked Isley.

"Yes, ma'am this is the Brugmansia plant. Everything about it is poisonous…from the leaves to the fruit it bears," said the florist.

"You don't say," said Isely.

…

Night came fast as Isley began to make her way back to her apartment. She noticed that she'd have to go through an alley. It was dark and cold and something didn't feel right to her. She got everything she needed. Even the abortion pills. She made sure not to return to her apartment without that.

That's when she saw him. Her rapist.

He was doing a deal to get some drugs. Isley wasn't surprised. But she smiled as she watched him and in her mind she plotted her revenge.

**Well, it's a little longer than it was before. This was something I just needed to do, saying that this chapter was significantly shorter than the others. I needed to add more. As far as the rest of the story goes, I'm going to try and stick to the 4 chapters a week plan. Although this week I've given you 5 new chapters and one rewrite. All in all, not a bad week. Next week is my birthday so…I don't know how much, if any, chapters I will complete. I'm joking. I'll give you at least 4 before the week is over. Aren't I a kind person? **


	6. SIX

**SIX**

**And now! The real chapter six! You're all in for a treat! I have sought help for creating this epic tale and I found someone who's helped me and together…we've created something that I think you'll all love! The plan is to deliver four chapters a week. Let's see if we can do that! **

The moonlight poured in through the window casting light on the shape of a man. Dust fell like snow through the abandoned building. The man lifted his head when he heard a sound echo through the dark hall. He sat there in a single chair in front of a table. The man chuckled as the footsteps approached him.

"Evening, detective," said the man. "I didn't need a house call. I've been good. And I don't plan on leaving. See?" He held up an old cracked frame that said HOME SWEET HOME.

"I'm not here to see how you're doing," said John Blake.

"Then why have you bothered my beauty sleep?" he asked.

"You knew him…didn't you? Batman?" Blake asked. The man chuckled.

"Which one? Dent or the real deal?" asked the man.

The man in front of him was always a mystery. He never had a chance to investigate his case. Killed several people, injured many more. And not once was he punished. Everyone's forgotten about him. Even Bane. They locked him away after he kept breaking out of Arkham. So, they swallowed the key and every month someone does the groceries and gives him food. He's allowed to roam around the place…but who would've thought that the only way to cure insanity is to leave It be.

"The Batman…the real Batman…he died," said Blake.

"Think about that. I tried everything I could and one guy in a mask comes in and blows some bridges and kills him," said the man.

"I need to know what happened that night…why didn't he let you fall?" asked Blake. The man smiled. The crusty white face paint peeling as he did so.

"I've often asked myself the same thing…that night would've been much different for him. Instead of being known as a murderer, he would've been praised. That statue would've gone up sooner. It all comes down to morals. He had morals. He can't kill. At least, not watch it happen right in front of him. It was a weakness we were working on. Now it's my turn to ask you a question. Are you the new Batman?" he asked. Blake hesitated.

"I'm not going to answer that," said Blake.

"That was a big pause for a simple yes or no question," said the man with a smile which extended from cheek to cheek thanks to his scars. "If you're worried about me, don't be. I have all the comforts I need. Free food. A place to live. No rent. Why would I go back after my nice retirement to try and terrorize this city again. Some other lunatic will come around. You'll see," said the man.

"That's what I came here for. You know those guys. You are one. Is there any way to just give them what they want? I mean, why did you kill?" asked Blake.

"Hobby of mine. I didn't have anything better to do. See this world…it wants you. It's wants you to sit at some desk all day and go out and buy the fancy cars or the new fur coats for the girl. It doesn't care one way or the other about you. Greed. It's all they care about. Now, I wanted to break that line. Throw chaos into the mix. Upset the established order. Ring any bells?" asked The Joker.

"A few," said Blake.

"Thing is. I did it by killing those to try and bring down the man who upheld it all. And he is still a mystery. Why he did what he did…and why he just suddenly left. It's strange. My turn again. Are you going to be Batman or are you going to be Joker?" asked the clown.

"Neither. I'm not cut out for this. I'm a cop. Not some vigilante," said Blake.

"That's not what Gordon said," the clown responded holding up an old newspaper. HEROS OF GOTHAM RETIRE. DETECTIVE JOHN BLAKE RETIRES AFTER HEROIC DUTIES. "I still hear things. So, ex-detective, are you the new Batman?" asked the Joker.

"Did you work for the League of Shadows?" asked Blake ignoring his question.

"I was offered a job, but I declined. I don't play well with others."

"What about Crane?"

"Pretty boy with the gas? Barely knew him. Knew his girlfriend though."

Blake slammed his fists down on the table.

"I want answers!" yelled Blake. The man chuckled. Then the chuckles grew to slight laughter. Then a sickening laugh ending with a coughing fit.

"You too…are so in common. Both of you can't stand me. Tell you what…you answer my question…and I won't tell the guard that you're trespassing in my house," said The Joker looking up at a security camera that was directly above the table and the clown. "They have cameras all over the house. And the minute one becomes unresponsive…it isn't pretty. Like I said, I don't want to leave. I like it here." He pulled out a framed fabric with the message HOME SWEET HOME across it. "So, Batman?"

" One more question…what's your real name?" said Blake.

"Does that matter?" said the man.

"It might give me more information," said Blake.

"If you're worried about another one of me coming out of the shadows…don't. There's only one joker in a deck," said the man.

"There's two Jokers in a deck," said Blake. The man looked at Blake.

"You're right…can't forget Harleen," said the man. Blake turned to walk away. "Nice to see you, detective."

Blake went over to the window and pulled out a small rectangular piece of metal. He clicked it and a sensor on the window glowed green.

"To answer your question…I'm not Batman," said Blake as he opened the window and crawled out into the night.

"No?" said Joker.

"A new knight soars on broken wings," said Blake. He opened the window and crawled out into the night.

...

The room filled with laughter as a group of men sat around a large table. Bottles of wine were opened and Desmond took a big gulp.

"You know Fries is a good guy but, he's a dumbass with this. He really thinks that he can save his wife," said Desmond. The men across from him all wearing black business suits looked at him puzzlingly.

"But the cure?" asked one of them.

"No, Brian. The cure is a hoax. In theory it could work. But...we don't have the time nor the resources. Besides, I have my own projects to work on. You all know that? The super human serum?" said Desmond raising the glass to his lips.

"We're not going to give you ten grand to waste on making steroids," said a different businessman.

"You don't have to, Tom," said Desmond. "The results have had catastrophic results. The mammal specimens are deceased. We stopped the experiments after a primate specimen recently was terminated. It would seem that this formula is having a very different effect on warm blooded animals than cold blooded ones."

"So, what do we tell Fries?" asked Brian.

"Nothing. We feed him false hope. We keep pushing it back saying that the experiment is not yet ready for human testing," said Desmond.

"Why? We should be saving his wife. He's spent every penny he has trying to save her. And…you're just going to…basically murder her," said the third man, John.

"His wife's been dead ever since this project began," said Desmond. "Besides…I don't have much of a choice. Someone found out what we did. They know what we did when Bane was around."

Mark Desmond knew Bane very well. In fact, they were partners. And Bane would never kill Desmond. Because Desmond and Fries created his mask and the drug he was using to feel no pain. They were paid handsomely for it. And Bane backed off.

"If Fries found out-"

"He won't find out. And if he does…our shady friend was very clear…kill him," said Desmond lifting his glass and finishing the wine. "And his wife."


	7. SEVEN

**SEVEN**

**I'm glad that everyone enjoyed the last chapter. I wanted to answer that question as to what happened to The Joker. If you read The Dark Knight Rises Novelization they said that he was left to rot in Arkham…but it was shut down after the funding was cut. So, what would the government do with a person like him? Kill him? No…that would only reward him. They found an abandoned house and made it basically impossible for him to break out…at least not without help. I don't know what I'm going to do with him. I'm trying desperately to make everything fit and tie in with The Dark Knight Trilogy and The Joker Blogs. And, I kinda want The Joker to stay put. Nolan and The Joker Blogs have done a great job with him and I feel that his time has passed. I may do something with Harleen Quinzel from TJB…and you might get another cameo appearance from Mr. J. But…I have a different clown I want to bring in. Someone who I believe is a riddle in the dark. Hint. Hint. So, thank you for the great reviews. If I get 100 reviews, I will contact Warner Bros, Nolan, and/or Legendary Pictures about creating a series of spin-off novels and they would be official. Answering the question of what happened to Blake after TDKR. So, at this present moment, only 69 more to go! And if I receive 1,000 views this month, it would also help. **

The rain fell in drenching sheets on Victor Fries as he entered the large building. He entered his lab, took off his coat and went over to the latest addition to the lab. A cryogenic chamber, a freezer, if you will. Desmond and Fries planned on creating this a long time ago. Not for any academic purpose, but more for making money. Now more than ever, Fries needed it. And it's a good thing they finally had it ready. Testing would need to take place, first. But Fries was confident that this could help save Nora. It would give them all much more time. He went over to the table and placed his coat and briefcase on the table and pulls out his cell phone. Fingers moving rapidly, he dials Desmond's number.

"Mark Desmond," answered the other line.

"Mark, it's Victor. I think we may have a break through. I just got off the phone with a man who is going to give us more money," said Fries. A smile formed on his face. "We're going to be able to save her."

"Who contacted you, Vic?" asked Desmond.

"Swedish chemist. He wants to send the money right away," said Fries. "A man by the name of Eugen Simon. He's going to pay off the hospital bills and everything, Mark. We'll be able to spend our funds on the research," said Fries.

"Victor."

"And we can start working on your cancer cure as well. Put more money towards steroids. Safe steroids."

"Victor."

"Yes?" asked Fries.

"It's over," said Desmond. For a moment, Victor froze.

"What?" asked Victor.

"The sponsors pulled out. The plugs been pulled. The board called our little experiment a 'waste of scientific genius.' Their words not mine. Point is…we're done," said Desmond.

Silence.

"Victor?" asked Desmond.

"Yeah?" asked Fries.

"I'm so sorry...take all the time you need with Nora. I'm here for you," said Desmond. Fries hung up. He lowered his head and tears streamed from his face.

He then looked up and walked around the lab. He slowly looked at his experiments. And then to the one invention he never got to try. The freezing chamber. Desmond was afraid to use it because it was inhumane to use a human test subject. So there it sat. And there it would continue to sit. He pulled a chair out and sat in front of the machine.

Days passed by. Desmond tried contacting Fries, but Victor never had the strength to answer him. He sat beside his dying wife, whose condition worsened every day.

"Nora…I don't know what to say. What can you say? When your world comes crashing down and the people who you count on…fail you. We had a plan, Nora. A great plan. Do you remember? Before all of this. Even before Batman. Back when we were young."

The warm sun felt good on his back. A young skinny woman wrapped her arms around him.

"If you lay on your back all day, you'll get sunburn, Mr. Freeze," said the woman. Victor smiled.

"I could say the same to you, Mrs. Fries," said Victor. He turned and kissed her.

"Victor…I'm tired of Gotham. Of the city life. Crime lords. Murders. Let's just get away from all that. We can live by the sea. Listen to the waves. Enjoy nature," said Nora. Victor smiled.

"Don't your parents on a beach house down South?" said Victor.

"Last thing I want to do is live anywhere near my parents…close your eyes," said Nora. Victor closed his eyes.

"Picture an island out there in the ocean. Sunshine. Waves. Sea gulls calling. Sand in between your toes," said Nora.

Victor imagined these things in his head. He felt warm. But yet cold. He knew how far away the island was.

"Do you see it, Victor?" asked Nora.

"I see it," said Victor. He slowly opened his eyes.

"That's where I want to go, Victor. To that island. With you."

Victor opened his eyes.

_I'm so sorry Nora…we will never go to that island. I can never feel the warmth. Not without you. _

Fries pulled out his cellphone and called one of the members of the board.

"This is Victor Fries," he said.

"Yes, Victor," said one of the board members.

"I need to know why you see it fit to murder my wife."

...

John Blake looked at Alfred and winced as he applied the alcohol to John's wound.

"Problem?" asked Alfred.

"No. No. It stings a little," said Blake. He looked around at the cave he now sat in.

"You know…I think this is a sign telling you that you need more training," said Alfred. Blake winced again.

"Hey that guy with the knife came out of nowhere," said Blake. Alfred finished and Blake rolled down the sleeve of his shirt.

"Still. I suggest better armor. I thought Mr. Fox was hooking you up with a suit," said Alfred. Blake looked off in the distance.

"I can't do it," said Blake. "That was Bruce's suit."

"And he left it for you," said Alfred. Blake sighed.

"I can't keep doing this. Running across rooftops, getting stabbed on a daily basis. And for what? To uphold a hero legacy? I can't keep falling down and brushing myself off only to fall down again," said Blake.

It reminded Alfred so much of his old master.

"You are just like him. He was going through the same thing when he first started. Hero's don't have an easy start, Mr. Blake. They get tossed around and beat up every now and then. But a true hero rises from the ashes. I told Master Wayne the same thing I am going to tell you. Why do we fall, Mr. Blake? So we can learn to pick ourselves up," said Alfred.

Blake pondered these words.

**Happy New Year everyone! More chapters on the way. Chapter 8 will be here next Thursday, 1/3/13! Please review!**


	8. EIGHT

**EIGHT**

**Now that we are eight chapters into this incredible story…it's time to give rise to our villains and heroes. I really wanted to get the next chapter out ASAP and that I did. Because I currently have 41 chapters planned and written out and we're still stuck on number 8. Good news is 49 chapters are in my head and I have more chapters to write. I've been thinking about giving chapter titles…but that spoils it for you. I'd rather leave all the twists hidden until you get to them. Now, some things I will spoil about this book are this…I am thinking to bring back Bruce Wayne and/or Selina Kyle before my series is finished. I don't think I'll move Joker…or maybe I will. Also, there will probably be more than 3 novels in this series because there's so many villains I want to use and put into the Nolanverse that it would have to be more than 3 novels. Again, 100 reviews and I will contact Warner Bros somehow, someway and I will try to get this story official. And people may say…no that will never happen…but would Warner Bros really turn down a way to make more money off this series without spending much of anything to make it? So, let's hope that somebody…somewhere wants to make it official. **

The night was black. No moon. No natural light. Street lamps provided very little light. But Isley did n't need light. Not for the work she was conducting. For the past week and a half she made a quick trip to the drug store, while she usually took to the streets, this night she used the newly refurbished train that ran all across Gotham and led to Wayne tower. It wasn't Thomas Wayne's train. Nor was it Bruce's. This train was built by the mayor to have a "cleaner, safer means of transportation across Gotham city.

Pamela was not a fan. They had to destroy part of the park and take out over a thousand wildflowers native to the Gotham area to build it. Bigger is better. She didn't put up a fight though. What could a botany professor do? Write to the congressman? Waste of time.

It all comes down to who has the deepest pockets and who can fill those pockets. Isley wasn't poor. She was a respectable middle class citizen who always paid her bills on time. Nothing to complain about. Middle is better than lower.

But tonight. On this dark night. She wasn't looking for money. She was looking for one man. She wondered how he would react to know that he had a child growing inside her and she killed it? How would Mark react?

She shook off any thought of Mark. She couldn't bring herself to even think about him. She promised herself that until the child was dead she would not show herself in public. And she kept to that. Even now she was afraid to show her face. Dressed in a large coat with a hood and sunglasses…she wouldn't…she couldn't see the world the same way ever again.

That's when she saw him. He got on very quickly and quietly. Why? Where was he going tonight? Who was he going to rape? How she so badly craved to see him die. She thought how easy it would be. It was only him and her on the train at this late hour.

But…it was too easy. How could she deny her _lover _a true departure? She stared at him through her sunglasses. He glanced over a few times. She continued staring. The man would turn back and pick through the pages in his magazine. It didn't look to interest him. Even if it was Sports Illustrated. Not everyone has that obsession. Perhaps, Isley thought, he'd be more interested in Playboy.

Again the man glanced over at her. This time he was pissed.

"Hey…miss. You mind turning your gaze somewhere else?" asked the man. Isley continued staring.

"I mind," said Isley.

"What's your name, red head?" asked the man. Isley smiled. She thought she'd play with him.

"Ivy. My name's Ivy."

...

Desmond sat in the lab. The night was growing on. It was already late and he was going to Isley's apartment tonight. He hadn't seen her in a while. Still no phone call. He was beginning to worry. Over a week. He was doing one last check on his formula, the growth serum. It was nearly perfected…but it would be all for nothing if he didn't get a test subject.

But this could wait. Pam needed him. More than he knew. He grabbed his coat and ran out the door. He turned off the lights except for the desk lights. He never saw Victor standing in the shadows. Once he was sure Desmond was gone. He walked over to Desmond's work. Victor smiled as he picked up one of the bottles.

"If I lose…you lose," said Victor.

The glass falls and shatters on the ground.

...

Isley kept smiling at the man. She wasn't happy to see him what so ever. The man was curious about this woman.

"Have…uh…we met before?" asked the man. Isley just kept smiling.

"You could say that," said Isley. Before the man could say another word the train stopped and the man realized this was his stop. The greasy black haired man got up and smiled towards Isley. He gave her a piece of paper.

"Call me," he said.

"Absolutely," said Isley.

"See you later, Ivy," said the man. He pulled his coat up close around him and quickly walked off the train. She just continued to smile.

...

Desmond walked down the hall of Isley's apartment. He found her room. Number 42. He'd been there too often not to know. He knocked on the door.

"Hey, Pam! It's me. It's Mark. Open up the door, babe," said Desmond.

Silence answered him.

"Pam, sweetie, it's Mark. Come on, baby," said Desmond knocking again.

Still only silence. This was beginning to bother him. He began to beat on the door.

"Goddamn it, Pam! Open the damn door!" yelled Desmond beating the door with his fists. An elderly gentleman opened the door next door, rubbing his eyes.

"Look, buddy, she ain't interested. Some people are trying to sleep while you beat down her door," said the man. Desmond turned and looked at the man.

"My girlfriend…soon to be my fiancé….hasn't been seen in over a week. I am getting into this room tonight," said Desmond. He began slamming his body against the door. Eventually the door broke open and Desmond fell on the door mat. He picked himself up and looked around.

"Pam?" he asked the air. He poked his head around the bedroom door and kept softly shouting her name. That's when he noticed the garbage and debris thrown across the room. And…many plants. Desmond didn't know them by name. They bore fruit. All of them. Desmond looked past the plants.

For Desmond, this was not like Pam at all. She was a neat freak. Everything was organized. After investigating the trash, he saw the used pregnancy tests and the depression pills thrown all around the room. And abortion pills. This was extremely surprising.

"I'm…I'm a father…" stuttered Desmond. A smile broke onto his face briefly.

His cellphone rang before he could investigate further. It was an unknown number. Someone he didn't answered it.

"Mark Desmond," said Desmond.

"Mark. Allow me to congratulate you. You've destroyed my life. Well…I just destroyed yours," said the voice.

"Fries?" asked Desmond.

"Winter is coming, Mark. And if you're not prepared…you're going to freeze," said the voice.

The call ended.

...

Blake looked at his new suit. It was almost identical to Bruce's suit. The same material. The same power. Everything. Except Blake decided to add some blue to the suit. He was never a fan of black. And little symbol of the police might be enough to show the people that he's not Bruce but holds to his ideals.

"Everything check out?" asked Fox. Blake smiled.

"It's perfect, Mr. Fox," said Blake. Fox smiled. He was enjoying this.

"There's just one more thing, Mr. Blake," said Fox. He pulled out a small bandana-looking mask.

"What's this?" asked Blake.

"Well, I got the idea from Ms. Kyle. This is more than your typical mask. Keen analyzer built into the lenses. Audio recorder over 500 meters. Your usual equipment. Also, you're taking the ESCRIMAs right?" asked Fox.

"Well, it goes with the outfit," said Blake.

"Mr. Blake, it's best to leave the outfitting and sarcasm to me. But you're absolutely right. So, what's your plan tonight?" asked Fox.

"I need to keep an eye on those shipments. Something tells me they're working with more than just drugs down there," said Blake.

"You're probably right, Mr. Blake. Also, the mask has a com link directly to me. Just give me a five minute notice if you need my guidance," said Fox.

"I don't remember Bruce having this much help," said Blake.

"He knew what he was doing," said Fox with a smile.

Blake grabbed the equipment and exited the Applied Science Division.

**Next chapter is a good one! One of my favorites. Well, that one and the one after that one. We're about to have all the worlds collide. One week from today! 1/10/13. Maybe sooner. **


	9. NINE

**NINE**

**Alright, folks. This chapter is a big one. We're actually going to begin to create our hero and villains. And this is all going to happen at the same time…well…except for one. I could've split this chapter into two regular sized chapters…but sometimes…you have to have a huge chapter to get to the good stuff in the next chapter. Enough of me rambling…let's get to what you all came to read. **

The bright red tip of the cigarette burns into the night. Ash falls onto the cold unforgiving ground. Smoke pours from the tip like some great dragon only to be enveloped by the user's smoke escaping his mouth. It billows in the night and disappears.

Jonny Viti took one more inhale from the cigarette and then dropped it to the asphalt and stepped on it, killing it instantly. He pulled his coat around him as he looked across the dock. His men continued to move the shipments. Unpacking, placing the items inside elsewhere, repacking with false merchandise, and sealing. It ran like clockwork. Viti didn't have to say a word.

In the shadows lurked another man. John Blake was ready to take his mantle. His suit a steel blue mixed with the black that was already in the armor provided by Fox. But he had some say in the design on the front. He ditched the bat and went instead for a bird shaped symbol. Very similar to the chalk symbol for Batman. He changed it. Blake remembered looking at that symbol. He once turned it upside down and he saw a bird. Rising from the darkness. That's what Blake wanted to be. That bird. A robin.

Blake had two holsters strapped to his legs which held the escrimas. They were no wider in diameter than a microphone. They hummed silently as they began to charge. Blake wore a cape, but he didn't need it. He was quite happy with the simple grapple gun. He kept the bat pattern that Bruce had. But his mask was the most interesting. It only covered his eyes. It was the steel blue color that the emblem was and it bared a resemblance to a masquerade mask.

Blake sat there. His cape lightly flapping from the breeze. He waited for the right time to strike.

...

The doors to the train opened and Isley walked out of the train. She breathed in deeply and exhaled as she pulled out her cell phone and the piece of paper her rapist gave her. She dials and holds the phone up to her ear.

"Harry Jarcho," answered the voice.

"Hey! This is Ivy. I've been a naughty girl, Harry. I need to be punished," said Isley.

"Oh. I can treat you, my Poison Ivy. Why don't you come over to my place and we'll punish you," said Jarcho.

"Sounds good, babe. Just need to know where I can find you," said Isley.

"You know where the college is? My apartment is right across the street. 192 North Avenue," said Jarcho.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," said Isley. She hung up and stowed the cell phone in her coat. "Poison Ivy…I like it."

...

Desmond pulled his car into the parking lot. He parked the car and rushed into the building. He was practically running. Bursting through door after door, Desmond made it to the lab. He opened the door.

"Hello, Mark," said a voice within the room.

"Victor. What's going on? What's so urgent?" asked Desmond. Fries moved out from the shadows. He walked slowly over to Desmond. Once the two men were within ten feet of each other, Fries responded.

"Nothing. There's nothing urgent," he said. Desmond frowned.

"Then why did you call me here?" he asked. "Victor?"

"Because Mark…you destroyed my life," said Fries. Desmond knew what Fries was talking about. He was going to play dumb anyway.

"I don't…understand…" said Desmond. Fries walked over to the freezing chamber.

"This machine…it can save Nora's life. I know it could," said Victor. "All it needed was more time and work. And you pulled the plug."

"Victor. You don't understand what's going on here. It's more than you could imagine," said Desmond. Fries turned to him.

"Really? Care to explain why you…my best friend for over twenty years…is deciding to kill my wife?" asked Fries.

Desmond remained silent. He knew why he did it. Someone waved the big bucks. Also, he has a debt to repay. A man knows Desmond was close to Fries. And this is how he would shatter that.

"I can't tell you, Victor. I won't tell you," said Desmond. "You'll find out soon enough."

Fries pulled out a small handgun.

"You're going to tell me now. My wife is dying! My career is ruined! I can't do anything to save her! And you are killing her!" yelled Fries.

"Lower the gun, Vic," said Desmond calmly.

"Go to hell!" yelled Fries.

"God damn it, Victor! Lower that gun!" yelled Desmond. Fries pointed the gun at Desmond then he turned the gun away.

"Ok. I lost everything…and so do you. It would be a reward to kill you," said Victor calmly. He pointed to where Desmond's experiment was. He pointed to the glass pieces on the floor. Desmond looked at shards and the puddles. He fell to his knees.

"No…no…no…no," said Desmond. He looked up at Fries. Fries was smiling.

"Oops," said Victor.

"You know, Victor. If Nora isn't dead now…as soon as I kick your ass…she will be," said Desmond.

Fries charged at Desmond, knocking them both onto the floor. Fries got up quickly. He pulled out the gun and aimed it at Desmond. Mark charged and grabbed the gun from Fries; he pulled it down when Fries fired it. It hit Desmond's leg and he felt it hit the bone.

"Ahhh! God damn it!" yelled Desmond. He regained his footing and punched Fries in the mouth. Fries fell back slightly. His lip was severally bleeding. Desmond kneed him in the stomach. Fries hunched over and Desmond knocked him out with a knee blow to the head. He then, still limping, pulled Fries over to the freezing chamber.

"You know what, Freeeeze! Why don't you chill!" yelled Desmond opening the chamber. He threw Fries into the chamber and turned it on. Fries was still unconscious. Desmond breathed heavily as he looked at the gunshot wound. He then looked over to Fries.

"I should leave you in there. You wanted a test subject so bad? You got the best one. Yourself. Tell me if it works," said Desmond as he began to walk out. But something stopped him. He sighed heavily. He walked over to the chamber and turned it off. He walked over to the lab's phone, dialed 9-1-1 and left the lab.

...

The apartment was covered in papers, empty beer cans, and other trash. Jarcho had several lines of white powder on the only clear table in the small two room apartment. He bent down and snorted the first line. His cell phone began to ring.

"Hey, baby, you on your way up?" asked Jarcho

"Harry? It's Viti. We got what we needed to get done. Do you want us to deliver it somewhere?" asked Viti.

"Oh, shit…no. I have a guy who's got it covered. Tell your guys to come over here to my place. We're going to celebrate," said Jarcho.

"Alright! Hey, save us some lines, you got that?" said Viti.

"I always do, bro," said Jarcho. He hung up and placed the phone in his pocket. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," said Jarcho. Isley opened the door and smiled. She casually walked in. "Take a seat" Isley did just that. She watched as Jarcho snorted another line. She smiled. Jarcho smiled.

"I have something that a man of your taste would like. I always have a line before I get horny. I have two exotic ones. There's a guy that makes this stuff. It's incredible, puddin'. Just one is all you need," said Isley as she pulled out two small packs of white powder. She poured the two samples out and made lines. She pointed to the left one. "Try this one first." Desmond did so and then snorted the other.

"Jesus…this shit burns…"said Jarcho.

"That's because the first one is nature's sleeping pill. The second one is Brugmansia powder. A poison. You'll be dead in five minutes," said Isley.

"Why?" asked Jarcho.

"Because…Poison Ivy can be a bitch," said Ivy. "You raped me. I'm returning the favor."

"You are a bitch…" said Jarcho. He closed his eyes and he won't open them again. Isley got up from the couch, turned the lights off, and stood in the closet.

"It's time to party," said Ivy.

...

Viti motioned to his henchmen. They halted.

"Alright. We're going to celebrate," said Viti. "Jarcho knows how to party. They'll handle things from here on out." They all got into their cars and rode off into the night.

Blake watched and decided that the only way to stop this operation was attack its roots. He unhooked his grapple gun and went after them.

Little did he know what was about to happen at the apartment.

**Alright. Well, this chapter isn't as long as I thought it would. But, these chapters are going to get so much better as time progresses. As far as my timing goes…well…I'll see if can make another chapter in one day. I hope I can. And I probably will. And, please review. I want lots of reviews. It doesn't have to be an essay. Just say one thing you liked and one thing you hated. Please. Also, I can't believe how popular this story has become. I have almost 40 followers and several favorites. Also, we still have many many chapters in this story. We're just getting started. Thank you all. Also, it should be noted that the first five chapters were Part 1. The next four chapters were Part 2. And the next four are Part 3. Part 3 is absolutely awesome! I hope you all enjoy. If I suck. If this story is boring. Please review or PM me. I'll change things. I always do. This is all a rough draft. The final version will probably be published one month after the final chapter. Ok. Well. Next chapter will be here very soon! See ya! **


	10. TEN

**TEN**

**As we begin Part 3, there should be some things said about Freeze. He's literally going to be allergic to heat. His body has become…mutated…in a way that he needs to be in cold temperatures. He becomes so mutated that develops a more aggressive case similar to Wilson's Syndrome. I did my homework. He must keep a core body temperature of sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Now, I know it's not subzero temperature like the comic version, but it's realistic and abnormal. If his temperature rises above sixty six…he develops hives, has heart attacks, and later dies. So, that's the plan with Freeze. But I have other ideas. If anyone doesn't like this, please PM me or review. **

The stretcher's legs clicked as it was rolled to the entrance of the lab. Fries' body was lowered onto it as officials quickly scurried around to get the man in the ambulance. Jim Gordon watched them load the man into the ambulance.

"Jesus. Was he alive?" he asked his new detective, Lyle Bolton. Bolton was a big guy but mostly muscle. He was a victim of The Joker's pointless ploys and The Wedding Day Massacre nearly eight years ago, shortly after the death of Harvey Dent. A security guard at Arkham Asylum…what could go wrong? Now…after his run ins with the clown and a croc…he was here. Although he had a brief hiccup…Lockup wasn't a good look for him. Gordon trusted him. Or as much as he could. Gordon didn't really trust anyone in this city anymore. He often wondered why he bothered staying. Why not just pack up and leave? Find his wife and kids. Start a new life. In a new city. No more Batman. No more scarecrows, clowns, or terrorists. Just a place he could catch a few criminals here and there. Some robbers stealing a lady's purse. Some speeding asshole. Something that didn't involve vigilantes.

He had his far share.

"They said his pulse was faint…but present," said Bolton.

"Was this a murder attempt or a suicide case?" asked Gordon.

"We found some broken glass and some blood. We're going to do some tests. But…my best guess…business rival. The man's Dr. Victor Fries, most famous cryogenicist on the planet. No one really knows about the hermit on a personal level. For the past year he's lived a shut in life only visiting two places; here and the hospital where his wife is being held," said Bolton.

"So…someone tried to kill him for his milk money?" asked Gordon.

"Seems more like someone wants him out of the way," said Bolton. Gordon looked around and watched as they strapped Fries down and closed the door to the ambulance.

"Well. We better get some samples and find out what went down here," said Gordon. "That's ironic…name's pronounced freeze and he's nearly frozen to death. Makes you wonder."

"What about, sir?" asked Bolton.

"Why God has a nasty sense of humor?"

…

Gotham was alive tonight. Police sirens blared and flashing lights spooked the darkness away. Blake knew of these lights and sounds. Many times before his retirement he was part of these wild goose chases and meaningless criminal catches. But tonight, he sought true justice. Something he could stand behind. Blake knew in his gut this was more than a simple illegal drug operation. Something big was about to happen and he knew it would all begin at Viti's apartment.

…

Ivy blinked as she took off her sunglasses and long coat revealing a short light green dress that was a little revealing in some areas. She sighed and applied ruby red lipstick and smacked her lips together. She smiled as she heard a car park abruptly outside the apartment.

"Playtime," she said.

…

Viti locked the car with the keys. He smiled to his three other members of the company. His leather jacket and off white button down shirt underneath showing a little dirt but in the darkness remained invisible. He spoke in a plain Italian American accent.

"Anyone want to bet Jarcho got the wrong shit?" he asked. The men remained silent. "C'mon guys! Lighten up! We're getting messed up tonight! Then tomorrow night...we'll be back out there."

"I'm just a little on edge…you know? Wallis said he saw The Bat a few weeks back," said one of the henchmen. Viti didn't even know his name. Paul? Jon? Bob? He didn't care. They were simple workmen. Tonight he decided to be nice.

"Hey. Tonight we're all gonna see the damn Bat!" he said with a smile. "Now. Let's get this part going!"

Viti opened the door to the apartment and proceeded to inside.

…

Blake stopped at the roof and watched as the last of Viti's henchmen entered the building. He was facing the entrance to the apartment. He scanned the windows to see any suspicious activity. But most of the rooms were dark. Some lights were on. He couldn't tell what was going to happen. But he knew…beyond a shadow of a doubt…

Something wasn't right.

…

Viti opened the door leading to Jarcho's apartment room. 614 was the room number. Like it mattered to Viti. Next time, the party would be where Viti wanted it. This is too close for comfort here. Yeah, it's in The Narrows. But the cops were really cracking down in this area after the clown. Bane too. He helped the cops get a tighter grip on this city.

The first thing Viti noticed when he opened the room was that the lights were off. It caught him by surprise to be honest. He looked around the room and didn't see anything alarming in the room.

"Hey, Jarcho! You awake, man!" Viti asked. "What's with the lights being off, man?" He walked over to the light switch and turned it on.

The body of Harry Jarcho was in the middle of the floor with a red lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

"What the hell is going on, Viti?" asked one of the henchmen. Viti smiled.

"Looks like someone's had a little too much…he said he had a lady over with him…wish I could've met her," said Viti.

"Wish granted," said Ivy opening the closet. She held a gun and before Viti could say another word two of his men dropped like flies. Shot in the head. Viti and the last remaining guy stood with their hands up and looked terrified of the woman.

"Jonathan Viti, I presume?" asked Ivy.

"Yeah. Who wants to know?" asked Viti. Ivy smiled.

"Me," she said. "Who's this man? A nobody? A relative? Who is this man?"

"Um…I think…it's…damn…Paul?" said Viti.

"You don't know?" asked Ivy. Viti tried desperately to remember the name of the man.

"No," he said finally.

"Pity," said Ivy. She shot another round into his skull. "He was kinda cute."

"You…are a bitch…you know that?" said Viti. "What did you do to Jarcho?"

"Only what he had coming to him," said Ivy. "He's dead. Poisoned. Should've been here earlier."

Viti shook with anger.

"Why the hell are you doing this to us? Why didn't you just leave when you had the chance?" Viti asked. Ivy walked over to Jarcho. She looked into his cold dead eyes and the frozen look on his face.

"Because…I wanted to warn you, Mr. Viti. Poison ivy grows fast. It itches at first…makes you angry. Makes you want to die. But I am the only one that kills. I'm poisonous. Deadly. And it only takes one time. It's time that this town stops trying to live under the old fashioned rules. Humanity has turned into a plague, Mr. Viti. And I'm the only cure," said Ivy. She raised her gun. "How would you like to die? Painlessly or painfully?" She pushed the small line of the poisonous powder in front of him. "It's your choice."

"Go to hell," said Viti.

"Painful it is," said Ivy as she reloaded the gun and prepared to fire.

The lights went out.

"Another visitor?" asked Ivy. There was a large crash and sound of glass breaking made Ivy look in the direction of the now shattered window. "A party crasher…this should be exciting."

Blake moved in the shadows. He turned his escrima sticks on. A faint electric buzzing was heard. Viti looked around for the source. Ivy did the same.

"C'mon out, copycat. We all know you're not him. He's gone," said Ivy to the darkness.

"I never left," said Blake. He removed the escrimas sticks from his holsters and swung them around hitting Viti. The man fell to the ground. Ivy dodged the first flurry of attacks. Blake spun around and aimed for Ivy's head.

"Is this a dance?" Ivy asked. Blake swung again. Ivy dodged and grabbed the back of Blake's knee, flipping him over onto his back. The escrimas rolled into the darkness. "You know…you're not him…but you are just like him. You have a name?"

"I'm…Nightwing…" said Blake through his pain.

"You're practice…" said Ivy. She looked over to where Viti fell and saw that he was gone. A sound of tires screeching told Ivy that Viti escaped. Blake also felt defeated.

"You know what…I'm feeling generous this evening…I'll let you live. But…if you ever interfere with me again…I won't hesitate," said Ivy. She hits him in the head with her gun, fazing Blake as he tried to understand what she was doing. She walked around the dark apartment. She found a tank of propane in the other room. She grabbed a lighter laying on the table amongst the garbage and a piece of paper. After attaching the paper to the gas valve…she lights the paper on fire.

"See ya around," said Ivy as she walked out of the apartment room, down the stairs and into the night. Blake regained himself quickly as he saw the propane tank and the fire. He rose quickly and painfully and ran as fast he could with his injuries to the window. He opened the window when a huge explosion propelled him from the building. He opened his cape and glided and fell onto the ground below. He was injured badly…but he was alive. He pulled out his grapple gun and rose to the roof of a nearby building. He watched the flames rise. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

He failed.


	11. ELEVEN

**ELEVEN**

**Since I've been given complaints about these lengthy author's notes…I will keep it short.**

…

Commissioner James Gordon opened his door just as the car came to an abrupt stop. The morning's light just peeking through the Gotham skyline to the east. Gordon barely got any sleep.

Just like the good old days.

The scene wasn't pretty. An entire apartment building went up in flames. Neighbors were saying it was some kind of explosion. But the worst part was the aftermath. Gordon was taught a long time ago to never dwell on that factor. He had to find the victim or victims responsible for this injustice. As he got out of his car he saw the fire crews pull another charred body from the ashes. Gordon looked away.

…

"I was told that you knew all about this attack," said Gordon. He now stood back at the GCPD building. In front of him was George Wallis, the only surviving member of Viti's crew.

"And who told you that?" asked Wallis with an attitude.

"The owner of the apartment. Luckily, he and his family weren't there last night. And neither were you…isn't that convenient? We've traced the explosion to a certain room. 614 ring any bells? Owned by a man named Harry Jarcho. You and Mr. Jarcho go way back. Both of you were with Crane the night of the fear toxin. That was a long time ago, Mr. Wallis. What did he do to piss you off?" asked Gordon. Wallis looked unchanged by this news. He looked into Gordon's eyes.

"I didn't do anything…you got that? Maybe Viti killed him," said Wallis.

"Viti? Jonathan F. Viti? What about him?" asked Gordon.

"Alls I know is the man has a bad side. You get on it and your goose is cooked. In this case, it would seem literally. Also…he owns a shipyard," said Wallis. Gordon was now more interested in this news.

"Shipyard?" asked Gordon.

"Down along the East Docks. Yeah, Viti bought it after the clown was put away. He didn't really use it much til the Batman left town. He's had some new clients. I was one of them. Until I saw him there one night," said Wallis.

"Saw who? Who did you see?" asked Gordon.

"The Batman…he's back."

…

Gordon opened the door to the interrogation room that so many years ago held the clown. He nodded and smiled to the receptionist behind the counter down the hall. The Gotham City Police Department had been entirely redone after the incidents with The Joker and Bane.

"You have a nice day, Mr. Wallis," said Gordon.

"Loved too," said Wallis walking out the door. Gordon walked down the hall and stood next to the receptionist's desk. She was on a call at the moment but Gordon motioned for her to wrap it up.

"Yes, ma'am…No I'm sure that it was just a malfunction with the alarm…We won't send reinforcements…Ok…Yes, ma'am. You have a nice day now. Bye bye," said the reptionist. She hung up the phone. "Young woman was explaining how her house alarm went off. It's probably nothing to worry about. Did you need something, Jim?" asked the receptionist.

"Yes, Barbara. Do we still have the number to Wayne Enterprises?" asked Gordon.

…

Lucius Fox was surprised by Gordon's visit but it wasn't something he wasn't prepared for.

"Commissioner Gordon, I'm glad you had the time to stop by," said Fox. They were standing in the main conference room of Wayne Enterprises. "You've caught the company on a bad day."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Fox. I hear the IRS let you lease the building," said Gordon.

"It's just long enough for us to clean out our lockers. Please have a seat anywhere. There probably won't be another opportunity to offer one again," said Fox. Gordon does so. But he seems uncomfortable and looks around the room.

"Is there something wrong with the décor, Jim?" asked Fox. Gordon shakes his head with a smile.

"I was just wondering if there was a more private place to talk," said Gordon.

"I assure you, Jim. With about twenty people in this building…none of them give a damn about our conversation," said Fox. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, I've been hearing reports of some unidentified vigilantes out there. People are thinking it might be…someone we thought was gone," said Gordon.

"Oh yes. I've been reading the newspaper. Strange sightings. People will desperately look for a hero when they lose one, Jim. These are probably nothing more than copy cats. I can assure you that if Bruce Wayne were back in town, the whole world would know about it," said Fox.

"So…he's still alive?" asked Gordon.

"If my calculations are correct," said Fox. "It would appear that Mr. Wayne fixed a certain…what would have been fatal problem on The Bat. The auto pilot was fixed successfully. So, along with the ejection from underneath the cockpit…Mr. Wayne would have been able to successful escaped an almost certain death. That's what I choose to believe."

"So…you don't know for sure if Bruce Wayne survived that?" asked Gordon.

"One can never be sure…it's just what I choose to believe. Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea? Anything?" asked Fox. Gordon shook his head.

"How did you do it? How did you build all his stuff? I thought Wayne Enterprises was more of a…well…I didn't think your company built toys for Mr. Wayne," said Gordon.

"We're an international operations company that dealt with Mr. Wayne's finances and investments. But you're right. We don't usually build planes and motorcycles. That's just something I do in my spare time," said Fox.

"Could I see what you worked on over the years? If it's no trouble?" asked Gordon. Fox shook his head.

"It'd be no trouble at all," said Fox.

…

Gordon was astonished by the sites. Numerous tumblers, several large metal cases, and The Bat all spread around the room. Most everything else was covered with large white sheets.

"So…this is where it all happened?" asked Gordon.

"Everything that Mr. Wayne needed was supplied by me. His suit, cape, vehicles, everything. Didn't cost me a dime. All this stuff was mostly built for the government. But, when they deemed that it was unfit for service. I left it here. And here it remains," said Fox. Gordon nodded.

"Did I ever tell you how we lost Detective Ramirez? It was back…before Bane but after The Joker. Detective Ramirez was called out to look up Sal Maroni, an old mob boss to the Valconi crime family, to see what he was up to. He was planning something big and The Joker was in on it…I remember that. How? We still don't know. But Anna got there…and…she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Two shots…one in the chest, which was blocked by her vest and one in the head…she didn't survive the last one. Our guys got in there and found both of them on the floor. Both dead. Someone shot Maroni. I like to believe it was Ramirez…but I can't be entirely sure, Mr. Fox. After these eight years. After my wife divorced me and took the kids custody. Here I remain. And I keep asking myself…why? There's nothing left here in Gotham. No one cares about me anymore. Especially after what happened with Dent. That cover-up ruined me. The department's annulled The Dent Act and are trying to claim that we're not trying to bring back Batman. But, people won't listen. Like I said…despite it all here we remain. You and me," said Gordon. "But, Lucius…I need to know. Are you making or giving any of your stuff to this new copycat? I need to know."

Lucius looked at Gordon for a few seconds and then, very plainly said;

"No, Jim."

Gordon looked at him for a good couple seconds. He then nodded.

"OK. That's all I needed. Thank you for your time, Mr. Fox," said Gordon.

"Anytime, Jim," said Fox. "Can you find your way out?"

"I got it. Thanks" said Gordon. The elevator rose and Gordon was gone. Lucius knew why he lied. He knew neither Gordon nor Blake were ready for a new hero. They both needed their own time to find their ways.

…

Pamela Isley turned off the house alarm and sat down in a chair. She was exhausted from her encounter last night. She desperately wanted to know who this Nightwing was. She wanted to find Viti and learn more about his organization. But for now…she needed her rest.

The world can wait to burn until tomorrow.


	12. TWELVE

**TWELVE**

John Blake applied ice to his leg. The pain eased and he felt more relaxed. In his other hand he held an instruction manual for the tumbler. The sounds of footsteps echoed through the cave as Alfred appeared. The old man walked up to Blake and stood next to him.

"It wasn't very wise for you to sell your apartment," said Alfred. Blake sighed.

"It wasn't wise for me to do a lot of things," said Blake. Alfred motioned for Blake to let him see his leg. Blake did so.

"I heard about the apartment last night…apparently someone's saying they saw you there," said Alfred as he tried to locate the source of Blake's distress.

"It wasn't a great first night, Alfred," said Blake.

"Neither was Batman's. First time he met Dr. Crane, he got dosed with the fear toxin and lit on fire. At least all you got was a busted up leg," said Alfred.

"People are dead because of me. If I wasn't there last night-"

"You'd never have made your mistake. And that's what you need to focus on. You needed to fall," said Alfred. He found the source. "You're lucky you didn't break anything. It's a sprain, for sure. You should take some time and rest. I can set you up in Master Wayne's old penthouse. You can take your studies there, if you'd like."

Blake nodded and Alfred left.

…

Desmond sat next to the hospital bed. The man lying on it was submerged in a large container filled with ice. The heart monitor showed that he was stable. But Desmond knew he wasn't. He was never going to be the same again. He remembered back to the day prior. When it was announced on the news that Victor Fries' condition was incredible and also tragic. Even though Desmond was the cause of this…he wished he could take it all back.

…

"I'm glad you're here today, Dr. Desmond," said Dr. Thomas Elliot. He was the doctor who was overseeing Fries' operation. A radical man, he had his ups and downs. Nobody ever thought twice of the respected doctor. Certainly not Desmond. The two men sat across from each other in a meeting room. Although it was several hours ago that Desmond and Elliot talked, it was still fresh in his mind.

"It's the least I could do, Tom," said Desmond. "Will he pull through?"

"Well…define the terms. His condition is something we've never witnessed before…his core body temperature right now is sixty two degrees Fahrenheit. In a normal human being…he'd be dead. But somehow…everything…his muscles, his organs, his blood, everything in his body has adapted to this radical change. And everything functions…while at a slower speed…perfectly. This is a medical anomaly, Mark. The lowest sustainable body temperature is eighty five degrees Fahrenheit and that's considered hypothermia. It would appear that he has a severe case of Wilson's Syndrome," said Dr. Elliot.

"Could you explain that last one?" asked Desmond.

"Wilson's syndrome is a disorder that is not official labeled in the medical world…but it basically means that one has a lower body temperature. The lowest recorded is 93.5. Like I said…this would be a severe case," said Elliot. Desmond covered his face. He closed his eyes.

"Is there any way to cure him? To restore him to normal?" asked Desmond.

"Not to our knowledge. We noticed that as soon as he was in warm temperatures…he began to have seizures. His organs were shutting down and he was…pretty much overheating. That's why we've submerged him in ice and kept the air conditioner on as low as it can go in his room," said Elliot.

"Is he conscious now?" asked Desmond.

"He's in a coma," said Elliot.

…

His cell phone is what brought him back to reality. He picked it up and looked at it. His associates were calling him. He answered.

"You have my approval. Tell him that I'm busy and he can call me once the money's been wired," said Desmond.

He hung up just as quickly as he answered.

…

Half way across the world, a man sat in a chair in his office. It was very late and most of the large building was empty. He paged his receptionist.

"Marge, tea please," said the man.

"Yes, sir," said the female receptionist.

The man was a young, slim, muscular, upright fellow with a heavy English accent and cultured background. He sat there and stared at the computer screen. Waiting for something. He drummed his fingers lightly against the side of his desk. He sighed. The receptionist came in with his tea.

"Thank you, Marge. You can go," said the man. The receptionist nodded.

The man picked up the steaming cup and brought it to his lips. He was about to drink it when an email popped up on the screen. He gently placed the cup on the desk and clicked the email. It read:

"Money's in the account. Desmond pulled through. He would like you to give him a call whenever you feel compelled to do so."

The man was confused by this last remark. _Whenever _you _feel compelled to do so. _The man shook his head. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number.

…

Desmond still sat in the hospital room. The silence was engulfing him until it was suddenly shattered by his phone. Frustrated, he pulled it out and stared at the number. He hesitated for a moment and then he answered.

"Hello?" asked Desmond.

"Mark…it's so good to hear from you again," said the man.

"Same here," said Desmond not quite so honestly.

"I just received word that the account is full and you wanted me to call you, correct?" asked the man.

"Yes, sir. It was an unexpected time for this transaction to take place," said Desmond.

"But, Mark, that's how my schedule is. If you expect it, then where's the surprise. There is none. Also…Desmond. I am never supposed to call you. You are supposed to call me," said the man in a very calm voice. But Desmond knew that the man was very angry.

"It won't happen again, Mr. Sionis. I can promise you that," said Desmond.

"I'm sure you can make a lot of promises, Desmond. It doesn't mean you'll hold true to them, now does it?" asked Sionis.

"I suppose not…but Roman, hear me out," said Desmond. The man interrupted.

"What did you call me, Mark?" asked Sionis.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sionis," said Desmond. The man sighed.

"I am coming to America, Desmond. I just have some loose ends to tie up here in London. You should be trying your best to impress me. And I'm feeling that you don't care about our plans," said Sionis.

"I have risked everything on making sure your plans work out, Mr. Sionis. I made sure that you had your money. I made sure that Fries was out of your way. I made sure that everything you needed was available for you. I am invested in your plans, Sionis, I think it's time you started answering to me," said Desmond.

Silence.

"Desmond…let me make this abundantly clear for you. This is my dream. This is my goal. No matter what you do…it will all come down to me. I am now in charge of the board. I am now in charge of everything you once thought yourself in charge of. You're lucky I let you live. I will see you in a week," said Sionis.

He hung up. Desmond stowed his phone away.

…

Roman Sionis rubbed his head. He put his phone away and grabbed his coat. But before he did anything else…he called another man. He waited for the tone.

"Mr. Viti, I'm sorry I couldn't reach you. But…there's something we need to address. Dr. Victor Fries. You've heard of him. I need those shipments collected. I will email you coordinates to the location. We have big plans for Mr. Freeze."

Sionis hung up and walked out of his office.

**Thus ends part 3! No news to reveal yet only that we're right on schedule. We will be finished with this story in March. I hope you all have enjoyed the story thus far. Because I'm about to change the whole thing. In a good way. Another chapter will be here this week. And then that will make four chapters in one week! Woo hoo! **


	13. THIRTEEN

**THIRTEEN**

**Only 35 chapters to go! Also, I know there are rumors going around about a sequel…I am coming out to say that those rumors are false…or are they? **

Weeks went by. Blake spent many hours of the night searching the computer in the cave under the former Wayne Manor. He rarely went outside. He stayed secluded as he read about the equipment. He yawned as he looked at another lead on the computer. He couldn't get the idea of the woman he saw in the apartment out of his head and the deaths she caused. She needed to be stopped. He searched for an identity and found nothing in any of the headlines. Whoever she was, wherever she came from, she was a ghost in the records. Nothing about her.

Blake yawned again looking at the clock. 2am.

He rubbed his leg. It was still sore but it was fully healed. He decided to check out another name he heard on the news the morning of the apartment fire. Harry Jarcho. He could probably get leads if he checked out his record.

Bingo.

Harry Jarcho was a direct line to many others. One man Blake knew very well. Jonathan Viti. Blake didn't expect much with this news. All he knew is that a certain man knew a certain other man. It made no difference. He still had nothing to do and no leads to follow. The last possibly useful bit of information of Viti was his old address that he abandoned years ago. He looked at the most recent picture of Viti's place. In the picture, it contained the same car he was driving to Jarcho's house the night _she _showed up. He looked up the car's information and found a shocking clue. Viti sold his house before purchasing the car. Either the photo was faked or Viti was still using his old house. Blake turned off the computer and got up from his chair.

…

Blake, fully dressed in his Nightwing suit, lurked in the shadows. Just as he predicted and his facts told him, Viti was still using his old house. Using the audio spying software that Bruce also used to listen in to his enemies conversations, Blake heard his entire conversation.

"Understood, Mr. Sionis. I'm heading over to the station as we speak. There's a guy there who's going to give me the last thing we need. Then, your plan is set," said Viti. The call ended abruptly. Viti didn't know if this was a good or bad sign. Blake knew what this meant.

It meant that Viti was just the assistant manager. Someone else was calling the shots. He put the device away and waited. It wasn't long until Viti got into his truck. Nightwing pulled out another gadget from the tool belt; a small gun. He aimed it and fired. A small tracking device hit the side of Viti's car and began to camouflage itself the color of Viti's car. Viti heard a slight bang when the device made contact with the metal vehicle. It sounded as if a stone were thrown at it. Viti walked around the car and, after seeing no damage or anything out of the ordinary, he got in and drove off. Nightwing followed from the rooftops above, using the tracer in his mask.

…

Viti's car stopped at the railway station for the rebuilt train lines. Nightwing stayed in the shadows, like an owl stalking a creature from below. He watched as Viti locked the car and proceeded into the station. Nightwing turned off the tracer in his mask and remained in the shadows.

Viti walked through the station. The night grew and the station was mostly empty. He brushed the hair out of his face.

A quick shadow made him stop dead in his tracks.

Something moved very quickly from outside the station to the inside. Something was inside the station. He shook off the feeling. A tap on the shoulder made him nearly faint.

"Hey? You the guy?" said the man who nearly gave Viti a heart attack. Viti felt his heart beating violently against his rib cage.

"Jesus…I think I just shit myself, man," said Viti. "Warn me next time you're gonna sneak up on me."

The man held a package in his arms. He looked to be about Blake's age, maybe younger. Someone who probably wasn't very reliable. He held a small box that obviously held great importance, but he didn't look like he cared that much. His ski cap, jacket and baggy sweatpants pretty much told Viti all he needed to know about this man.

"I think we both know why I'm supposed to give this to you," said the man. Viti accepted the box.

"How often do you do business, kid?" asked Viti.

"This kind of business? Only when I need a break from the other kind," said the man.

"Sounds good to me," said Viti. "Just keep your eyes out. I've been involved in some crazy shit recently. Someone might track you down."

"Who?" asked the man.

"Batman. Who'd you think?" said Viti sarcastically. "The feds. They've been being more on top of this crap even since Bane left."

"You know what I think happened to Bane?" asked the man.

"I don't give a damn," said Viti. "The bastard was a nut job. He was going to blow up the city. That's about the only thing I thank the Batman for…saving our asses." Viti turned to exit the station but he continued the conversation. "So, just keep a lookout. You never know when they might show up, bro. It's like a knife in dark."

There was a huge gust and the lights flickered for three second intervals of on and off. Viti looked back.

The man who delivered the package was gone.

He began sprinting through the phases of light and dark to the door to the outside. He turned to look back.

A man stood where the other was. Except Viti knew he was not the same man he was talking to moments before. He grabbed the door handle and felt a stinging electric shock. Releasing the handle, Viti ran to the lower level subways that ran in the underground throughout Gotham. The darkness enveloping farther. His heart beginning to beat wildly again. He raced to the first terminus and noticed the next train would be arriving at 1:30am…it was 1:27am. Three minutes. He could hold them off for three minutes. He could hold _him _off.

He pulled out a gun.

"Alright! You wanna play chicken?! Two can play that game, bitch!" Viti fired it randomly into the air. "Huh?! You wanna mess with me know?!"

He began turning and spinning, trying to desperately find the prowler.

"You can't do this all night, buddy! I can!" yelled Viti. "Show yourself!"

Viti looked and saw, amongst the continued flickering lights, a man. Then another six second period of light and darkness and he was gone.

"Goddamn it…come on!" yelled Viti. He fired around the room. "Who the hell are you?!"

A sudden wire tripped him and made him fall flat on his face. He screamed as he was dragged into the darkness. A cold muscular hand grabbed his throat. Viti looked at the man who grabbed him.

"Nightwing…that's the hell I am," said Blake. He punches his head and throws him aside. Viti gets up quickly and points the gun at him. Nightwing grabs it and twists the gun from Viti's hand. "Earlier tonight, you made a call to a foreign number…who was this man?"

"I ain't talking to some Batman-wannabe…screw you," said Viti. Nightwing punches him in the stomach.

"Who's Sionis?!" yelled Nightwing. The sound of the train coming closer forces Blake to yell.

"Freeze!" yells Gordon as he and five or six other cops begin to pour down into the terminus. Nightwing releases Viti and raies his arms. "Take off your mask!"

Nightwing begins to do so, but Viti begins to run. He slips on the wet floor and falls onto the tracks. Before Nightwing can blink, the train approaches and crushes him on the track. The sound of the bones cracking and his life disappearing and muddled by the sound of the train. Nightwing closes his eyes, raises his arms and gets on his knees.

"Don't move you son of a bitch!" yells Gordon. Blake doesn't…until he presses a button on his glove.

The entire station is engulfed with darkness.

"Raise the lights! Someone get the lights back!" yells Gordon. But a few seconds later, Nightwing has vanished. Gordon looks around. Shocked and in awe.

He puts his gun away.

"Let's get this place shut down so we can clean up Mr. Viti," said Gordon. He grabs the package that Viti was supposed to deliver. "Also, give this to Mr. Fox. We'll need to know what this is." He looks up at the ceiling.

"And bring me a coffee. Three nights without sleep is catching up with me."

**Definitely my favorite chapter. From beginning to end I wanted you guys to feel like you're back at the movies. These were my favorite scenes and now that Blake has gotten some knowledge about the technology and did some homework, he's almost like Batman. Except he forgot to grab that box. Showing you, that the gadgets don't make the hero. And he's still making mistakes. **


	14. FOURTEEN

**FOURTEEN**

**I can't stop! I can't stop!**

The cave seemed the same as Blake left it. He removed the bandana-like mask and sat in the chair next to the computer. The rushing waterfall easing his pain. Not physical. But the mental and emotional pain. The pain no one spoke of. He thought so much of the man who died tonight. He might have been a criminal but that didn't give him the right to die. Again, Blake related it to himself. To what he has become. Footsteps echoed through the cave.

"I heard the car around back. If you plan on continuing to use this cave as your own bloody storage bin, then please don't come back at 3am. You're not the only one using the place anymore. And Fox never designed that motorcycle to be very quiet," said Alfred.

Blake glanced back at him.

"You find what you were looking for, then?" asked Alfred.

"I lost the only lead I have. John Viti is dead," said Blake.

"Well, I'm glad I found out before reading it in the paper. Anything else I should know?" asked Alfred.

"Gordon…he saw me. I had to vanish," said Blake, taking off the suit. Although he was wearing a plain white shirt and pants underneath, Alfred still felt he should advert his eyes. He looked in a different direction.

"In time, Mr. Blake, you and Commissioner Gordon will be good friends. As you already are outside your professional careers," said Alfred.

"I haven't talked to Gordon since Bruce left," said Blake. "There was one thing I got from tonight's visit. Sionis…Viti was talking to a man named Sionis. Does it ring any bells?"

"Sionis Incorporated. Big business based in London. Been there since I was a small boy. The name Sionis goes far back. Much of the family name has spread around. If you're looking for a Sionis, it'd be like trying to find a needle in a haystack," said Alfred.

Blake shook his head.

"So…I've got nothing to go on," said Blake.

"Perhaps it's not you that has nothing to go on…perhaps it's your targets. You keep aiming to bring down these big crime lords. But, perhaps, you should just focus on injustice. Seeking to be justice. Stopping the small crimes and getting your fill that way. Perhaps you should see if you can find this woman from the other night. Or simple, take some time off and enjoy your life a little bit," said Alfred.

"I can't do that. Bruce left me his responsibility," said Blake.

"No, Mr. Blake, Bruce left you a suit. You left yourself with his responsibility," said Alfred.

…

The morning sun poured through the window of Wayne Enterprises. Lucius Fox opened the door to his office, only to find another man sitting in his chair.

"Mr. Fox, how great to hear from you again," said a familiar English voice.

"Roman Sionis, the pleasure's all mine," said Fox. The two men shake hands.

"I hope you don't mind me taking a seat. My plane landed a half hour ago and I just had to see the building. You're receptionist let me in," said Sionis.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Sionis," said Fox. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"

"A nice black coffee would do…but before that…I have an offer for you," said Sionis. Fox was startled, but somehow he knew why Sionis was here.

"Sure thing, Mr. Sionis," said Fox.

"I believe you're well aware that this company of yours is running on fumes. Your stock dropped again this morning. But this wonderful company…it needs a knight in shining armor, Mr. Fox. I am willing to pay you eighty million dollars for the company. That includes the building itself and everything in between. This includes your Applied Science Division," said Sionis.

"The technology in the Applied Science Division as well?" asked Fox.

"Well, of course," said Sionis. "I always give credit where credit is due."

He grabbed his briefcase and opened it. He pulled out the contract and laid it between the two men.

"Now…do we have a deal, Mr. Fox?" asked Sionis.

…

Blake walked into the penthouse that once belonged to Bruce Wayne. He went over to the television and turned it on. Mike Engel, who was much older than he was the last time he was shown on this very television.

"In a stunning turn of events, Sionis Incorporated has bought Wayne Enterprises. CEO Roman Sionis has removed former CEO Lucius Fox who's spent more than 30 years at Wayne Enterprises. Sionis has called together a press conference about the purchase and what this means for Gotham City. The press conference will be filmed later today in the Social Hall of the building.

…

Sionis walked up to the microphone. The afternoon sun pouring into the hall and casting light on the large audience in front of him. He cleared his throat.

"I want to start off by thanking everyone here for attending this press conference today. This is fairly recent as I just got off the plane this morning. But…everyone needs a hero. Someone to save them from certain doom. Today, I am the hero of Wayne Enterprises," said Sionis. The crowd applauds. Fox, who sits in the back does so as well.

"Wayne Enterprises and Sionis Incorporated can stand tall knowing that they will thrive. But, before I continue with that, I'd like to give a little praise to the Wayne family. Although all its members are deceased, god bless them…it was their dream and ambition in life that allows me to carry on their legacy in death. Thomas and Martha Wayne died a cruel and unusual way. This was not justified. And their son Bruce Wayne saw through that. Bruce Wayne stood as a symbol for true justice when he donned a mask and a cape. Bruce Wayne was and forever shall be Batman. He showed that it's justice that must prevail no matter how dark the night is. Bruce Wayne made the ultimate sacrifice to justice when he sacrificed himself to save this city. If it weren't for Bruce Wayne…I would not be seeing you all here today. I would not be making this speech. But we can be proud and stand together now because Bruce Wayne prevailed," said Sionis.

Fox was stunned that Sionis knew this information and at the same time was in awe of how Sionis was describing the former CEO. Every word Sionis said, Fox was in full agreement with. Once Sionis finished, yet again more applause.

"I can go on and on about Mr. Wayne. I can honestly. But…we'll save that for another day. It is time to talk business. I have a few announcements about some divisions of Wayne Enterprises that will be shut down. The first division is the Wayne Financial division…this one is clearly self-explanatory. I will, as per Mr. Wayne's will, continue the cash flow to The Thomas and Martha Wayne Home for Boys. Another division that will cease to operate is the Broadcast and Entertainment division. We have no need for this division anymore. This was back when there were not a hundred channels on the telly. The last thing we need is more. Finally, and this division was a tough decision but after the recent events, it seemed absolutely necessary…The Applied Science Division," said Sionis.

Fox felt as if a knife had just been plunged into his back. He was stunned.

"Let me explain why," Sionis continued. "Although Mr. Wayne got all of his gadgets from this division…someone else did. A terrorist organization located in Tibet known as The League of Shadows sent a mercenary almost a year ago. He went by only one name. Bane. Bane found the Applied Science division and a fusion reactor that would have allowed for clean renewable energy. Bane seized the vehicles and weapons, including the reactor and turned them against us. We cannot and we will not risk this again. The property will be destroyed and the blueprints erased. I will not let this city fall victim to a terrorist by this company's hand."

More applause. Fox turned and left the room.

…

John Blake walked around the dark Applied Science Division. Around the many items he never got to see and never will. He was about to turn and leave when Fox whistled to him.

"Come here, son," said Fox. Blake ran over to him. When he stopped, he saw the Bat, the tan version, the prototype.

"Mr. Fox…you sold the company?" asked Blake, stunned.

"I had no choice, Mr. Blake. This company was going down the toilet and dragging me along with it," said Fox.

"Sionis…he's shutting down and destroying all of this," said Blake.

"That's right…he is. And there's nothing neither I nor you can do about that now. But, I was hoping you'd come and visit me one last time," said Fox. He handed Blake two new escrimas. "Try to hold onto these better this time."

Blake smiled.

"Also, when you're ready for it…there's something you should see at the West docks," said Fox.

…

The night took over the day and soon the moon rose with it. The light of the moon lit Fries' entire room. The cool air was enough to almost make the room stand still. A man's shadow was cast into the room. He walked in and sat in the car beside Victor. It was Sionis. He watched the man breath slowly. It was almost hypnotic.

"Patience, Victor. Winter is coming," said Sionis. He rose from the chair and exited the room.

**I swear, me getting sick is the best thing that could've happened for this story. We completed five chapters in one week and got through two parts! I honestly can't thank each and every one of you enough for your support for me making this project. So far so good. There's no telling what will happen next. Literally, I'm not telling you. **


	15. FIFTEEN

**FIFTEEN**

**Part 5 is underway! Also it should be noted that these "parts" are merely sections my friend and I worked on in one week. We actually planned out the whole book. The parts are just a fun way of saying that we're getting somewhere in this story…also, the best is yet to come. Part 14, the final part, is actually my entire choice. I get to choose how to end it…we have a layout right now…but I'm not satisfied. I need to go out with a bang! Perhaps literally…**

John Blake parked his car on the east dock. He was dressed in casual clothes. The days were becoming warmer now that summer was fast approaching, yet the cool air lingered. Even in late May, Blake could feel winter's cold grip. He walked through the abandoned shipyard. As he walked he remembered the first couple nights out here, almost two months ago, when he was sitting on the rooftop. When he still had much to learn…even though he still does have much to learn. He looked at one of the empty containers. The door creaked open as he pulled. He took out his flashlight and peered inside.

Nothing.

He didn't know how it happened and he didn't know anything about them, but they were good at hiding things they didn't want people to find.

Blake sighed. He was about to give up when he saw a small puddle of liquid. He smirked. Walking over, he pulled out a syringe and filled it with as much liquid that was there. He stowed it in his pocket and walked back to his car.

…

An old eye stared into the bluish liquid. Blake stood in the board room at Wayne Enterprises. Fox's last day was going to be spent helping Blake one last time.

"Do you know what it is?" asked Blake. Fox shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, son. If I still had my lab, I'd be able to tell you exactly what it is…but…I don't. I do…know someone who knows chemicals," said Fox.

"A friend?" asked Blake.

"More like a benefactor…I scratch his back and he scratches mine," said Fox. "Dr. Jonathan Crane."

"Crane? You're working with Crane? Wasn't he the one who was behind that attack on The Narrows?" asked Blake.

"Dr. Crane has become my eyes of the criminal underworld…and he can tell you all about your mystery chemical, Mr. Blake," said Fox.

"Do you know where he is?" asked Blake. Fox looked at him.

"I can't give you all the answers, Mr. Blake. Some of them you will have to find out for yourself," said Fox. "Also, John…after today…I will no longer be in Gotham City."

"You're leaving?" Blake asked in astonishment.

"Seems that I'm no longer needed here. I'll keep in touch and if you need a tune up, just let me know," said Fox. Blake stowed the chemical into his pocket of his black coat and looked up and extended a hand. Fox took it and the men shook.

"Good luck, rookie," said Fox. "You're gonna need it."

…

Blake sat on the computer in the cave once again. The platform rose.

"Did it ever occur to knock, Alfred?" said Blake jokingly.

"Your doorbell was broken, Mr. Blake," said Alfred. "Fox told me that you were looking for someone."

"Crane. If Bane found him…I'm sure I can," said Blake.

"Are you so sure about that?" asked Alfred. Blake looked at him and then went back to searching the database.

"I'm guessing you have some suggestion?" asked Blake.

"I have a few numbers that you can call," said Alfred placing a piece of paper in front of Blake. "I would suggest Det. Crispus Allen. Former detective, now. He was a detective before you. I afraid you never really met him. Here's your chance."

Blake looked at the name. He thought back to that night in the subway. With Gordon.

"Do…do you think I should tell the Commissioner?" asked Blake.

"Commissioner Gordon needs to know who you are. But so do you. Wait until you have firmly established yourself, Mr. Blake. That's when the true hero reveals himself," said Alfred. Blake remembered something else about that night. That's when he remembered about Viti and the package that the police now had in possession.

…

The faint pulse on the heart monitor began to increase slowly. The eyes of Victor Fries began to slowly flicker open. He breathed heavily and deeply. An oxygen mask was over his face. He slowly raised his arm and pulled the mask off as he began to move himself. A man walked over and put a black cane in front of him.

"I don't think so, Dr. Fries," said the man. Victor laid back down. He spoke, but his speech was slow and there were half second pauses between words.

"Who…are…you?" asked Fries.

"Roman Sionis, Victor. I am your new benefactor. Welcome to the Applied Science Division of Wayne Enterprises. New version, I should say," said Sionis.

"Why…am…I…here?" asked Fries.

"Good to see you're still able to form complete sentences…even if you have a slight speech impairment. Nothing a little physical therapy can't handle. Your case is internationally famous, Mr. Fries. And I will be glad to report to the world that you are finally awake and functionally…only…I can't do that, Mr. Fries," said Sionis.

"Why…the hell…not?" asked Fries.

"Because…you are officially dead. I paid off the hospital and they, along with the rest of the world, believe you are deceased. It's amazing what money can buy. It can destroy a life…or it can save it," said Sionis. "The question that remains is…which do you want for your wife?"

"You…are…an…asshole…Sionis," said Fries.

"Perhaps. But I know what I'm doing. I am giving you an ultimatum, Fries. If you agree to do everything I say…I will save Nora," said Sionis. "But that means that we play by my rules."

Fries closed his eyes.

"Where is Nora now" asked Fries.

"Suspended animation. Yes, you're experiments were continued with my assistance and, your wife is in a comatose like state that I can remove her from the moment you wish me too," said Sionis. "Now…it's time to get your mobile. I've begun construction on a suit that will keep you relatively cold so that you don't die, Mr. Freeze. You don't mind if I call you Mr. Freeze do you. Complete opposite of your name but suits you quite well. The suit will be operational in a matter of days. For now, you just rest here and think about my proposal to you. I'll be in touch."

Fries looked away from Sionis and thought about his wife.

"Nora…I'm sorry," said Fries.

…

The glass was placed lightly on the counter as Cyprus Allen, a robust man in his late 40s, unscrewed the lid on his whiskey and filled the glass halfway. He put the lid back on and gulped the glass down. He began to repeat this process when he stopped.

"Scarecrows or clowns?" asked Allen.

"Scarecrow," said a voice from the shadows. Allen chuckled and went back to pouring and drinking. Nightwing approached the man.

"Why don't you take a load off...and have a drink? Who are you supposed to be?" asked Allen noticing Nightwing's outfit.

"No one I'm not" said Blake.

"If you're gonna talk like that…I better have a few more glasses. You got a name?" asked Allen as he lowered the glass from his lips, turning around to face him.

"You'll know it in time," said Nightwing.

"Private man, huh? Well, you came so I'll deliver. Crane. He's down in the sewers now. Last time I saw him, he was talking about crocodiles. Perhaps the old bastard is starting to use that drug of his on himself. But, I don't know. Just…don't show up in that outfit…he won't take to kindly to that," said Allen.

"And that's where I'll find him?" asked Blake.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're asking," said Allen. He turned back to refill his glass. "I mean, you gotta give credit where credit's do. You kinda remind me of him." Allen turned back to face him and noticed that Blake was gone. Allen scoffed.

"Now I'm not sure if you're him or not," he said.

**Well, we're slowly moving along. 3 days since the last chapter isn't bad, though. I don't know if I will give you 4 chapters this week. But I'll try. No promises. I guess you can tell who will be showing up in the following chapters. **


	16. SIXTEEN

**SIXTEEN**

**And here…we…go…**

The shadows hid the man as he walked through them. He remembered what had happened in the last few days. He saw Fox one last time and was given a new suit. This suit had a retractable cape, which is the way he had it right now. He told Blake that it would spring out the moment he needed it, which could be signalled by outstretching his arms. Also, Blake had some design in the new look of the cape in flight. It resembled more like bird wings than bat wings. Blake wasn't too anxious to test them out…he had a bit of a fear of heights. But, Blake figured that tonight he'd see something more fearful thanks to Mr. Crane. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he stepped in another puddle.

He had to work on stealth.

He turned the corner and saw the large area that once housed the masked man. Blake slowly entered and saw a man standing in the middle of the bridge. Blake walked slowly towards him. He began walking slower and slower. He stopped about three feet in front of the 'man'.

It was a scarecrow.

Blake, dressed as Nightwing, extended his hand to the inanimate object.

A gas shot out of the scarecrow and Nightwing fell to the ground in a coughing fit. Through the dense cloud of gas, he saw another figure approach.

It looked like Batman at first, but it turned into a monstrous form of him.

"So…you're not the Batman," said the figure in a deep, dark voice. Blake looked away from the apparition. He pulled out a small needle and stuck it in his neck. After a few seconds, the apparition disappeared.

A man with a crumbled brown mask that had eyes and a stitched smile greeted him. Blake breathing slowed as he began to look at the man.

"Crane," said Blake.

"Yes. Can I help you?" asked Scarecrow.

"What do you fear?" asked Blake. Scarecrow looked at him.

Then, the room went dark. Crane was terrified as he turned in the dark.

"It seems like someone's afraid of the dark," said Nightwing. "I know why. You can never be certain what awaits you in the dark. You could never know the danger that lies just out of your eyesight. I guess, for me, it's the unknown that scares me the most. But for you, perhaps it's because…something might grab you."

At these last words, Crane was pulled through the darkness upside down towards the ceiling. He screamed in terror as he was halted. The lights came back on. Nightwing was on a platform near the ceiling. He held his suit in his fist.

"I need you to do something for me, Crane. And you're going to do it," said Nightwing. "Actually, I need two things from you. Do you comply?"

"Uh…uh…" said Crane.

"Wrong answer," said Nightwing. Crane began to free fall as the lights went off again. He was halted towards the bottom. The sounds of the water were close and little droplets from the flow of water above hit Crane.

The lights came back on and Blake was on the ground.

"Do you have an answer for me?" asked Blake.

"Yes. Yes. I'll do what you want," said Scarecrow. Blake pulled off the mask and threw aside. He pressed a button on his suit and Crane fell to the ground. "You could've just asked."

"I like theatrics as much as you do," said Nightwing. He held out a small vile of the blue liquid. "I need you to identify this for me."

Crane looked at it.

"Well, I can tell you what it's not right off the bat. No pun intended. It's not a poison. It's some sort of cooling agent. I'll have to do more tests. Come back tomorrow," said Crane.

"No, tell me what it is today. We have plans tomorrow," said Nightwing.

"We have plans?" asked Crane. "What do you mean 'we' have plans?"

…

Isley positioned the hot lamp directly over her plants as she began to water them. She hummed to herself. She was back in her apartment, caring for her plants. Almost every square inch of the place was covered in the plants. Her phone began to ring. She paused and placed the watering can down. She walked over to the phone, picked it up, and answered.

"Mark…I'm afraid it's not working out," said Isley.

"Pam, maybe if you saw me more, you would reconsider," said Desmond on the phone.

"No. Goodbye Mark. Don't call me again," said Isley. She hung up. She went back to humming. As she did she noticed that the newspaper for today held another grainy picture of Nightwing. She grabbed it and walked over to the counter, pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the picture of Nightwing out. She then grabbed a thumbtack and walked over to a collection of cut outs she thumbtacked to the wall. She added this new one to the wall. All of the pictures were of Nightwing. All grainy. All giving away no information. She sighed.

"It's time to find you," said Isley.

…

Dr. Crane waited for the analysis to print out. He and Blake were standing in a dry place where a small lab was. Crane looked again at the blue liquid. Once the printer stopped, Crane grabbed it.

"It's not a tonic," said Crane.

"We knew that. What else," said Nightwing. Crane studied the paper and then spilled the chemical onto it.

"What are you doing?" asked Nightwing as he tried to reach for the paper.

"Don't touch it!" yelled Crane. Blake watched as the chemical saturated the paper. Then after a few seconds the paper began to peel and disintegrate. "It would do the same thing to your skin."

"I thought you said it wasn't a tonic," said Blake.

"I did. It's not an acid either. It's a cooling agent. And, if it isn't readily applied, it destroys the host. So, whoever is using this chemical better make sure they apply is constantly. However, it keeps the host cold. It's very interesting from a chemical perspective," said Crane.

"Is there a way to stop it?" asked Blake.

"Not at this time. And it's not meant to be cured. It's meant to be used for a practical purpose. The second it doesn't get reapplied, it begins to disintegrate whatever it touches," said Crane. "Now, I'm beat. You said we'd do that other thing tomorrow."

Nightwing looked at him.

"It's tomorrow," he said. Crane looked at his watch.

"I'll be damned. 12 on the nose. So, what's the plan then? Grocery shopping? Clothes shopping? Clubs? Casinos?" asked Crane.

"Grab your mask and a non-lethal version of your toxin. We're going somewhere you're not going to like," said Nightwing turning to leave.

"That narrows it down," said Crane.

**Next time on the Nightwing…everyone dies! Just kidding. Or am I? Tune in next time to find out. **

**And a review or two wouldn't hurt. **


	17. SEVENTEEN

**SEVENTEEN**

**Wow. It's feels like it's been a long time since I wrote a new chapter…when it hasn't even been a week. Nothing to really say about this chapter. I may end up changing it in the final version…let's just say this whole Crane/Blake scene wasn't really my best idea. But, just like Joker scene, I want to give it a shot. Let it ride. So, tell me what you think! As a birthday present to me, leave a review or two. And yes, my birthday was 2 days ago. **

The scars were still there. The place never fully healed. Nothing ever fully heals. Not after all the things this city endured.

Commissioner James Gordon understood that well. There weren't a lot of people left from those days. The days of giant bats, clowns, and scarecrows. But Gordon knew all that he lost. He lost his friends, family, and his reputation. He lost everything he had. But it didn't mean he was going to give up. He knew…day 1...this job wasn't going to be easy. And it wasn't.

"You familiar with the Wayne's?" asked Commissioner Loeb. The very young James Gordon looked up at Loeb and nodded.

"So…they're dead?" asked Gordon.

"Not all of them. That boy there. That's Bruce Wayne. I need you to try and get these people out of here" said Loeb. Gordon looked across the room at the boy, not much older than eleven or twelve.

"Gordon?" asked Loeb. Gordon nodded.

"Yes, sir," said Gordon. He walked out of the Commissioner's office. He looked back to the boy.

He pitied him. He wanted to say he was sorry. But for what? That some other guy had a gun and shot his parents? It wasn't Jim's fault. He wanted to go over and tell him that everything would be alright. But he knew it wouldn't be. How could it? But he did decide to do something. Through the chaos of the office and the rush of people, mostly hearing the news that Gordon just heard, Gordon walked over to the boy, who was looking down at the floor, was holding a large coat. Gordon knew it wasn't the child's.

"Is that your father's?" asked Gordon. Bruce looked up. Gordon reached for the jacket.

Bruce recoiled and held the jacket protectively. He was not going to let them have it.

"Hey, it's ok," said Gordon. He grabbed the jacket and put it around Bruce's shoulders. The young boy barely fit in the large coat. Gordon patted him on the shoulder.

"It's ok," said Gordon with a smile.

The room lights were low as Gordon stood looking at the chair where Bruce sat. After so many years, Gordon still remembered that night. He sighed.

"Commissioner Gordon?" asked a young male rookie, he looked very athletic with is spiky jet black hair. He seemed to definitely have Italian heritage. He seemed to be maybe in his early twenties. Almost Blake's age.

"Officer Riley, what can I do for you?" asked Gordon, much older than he was back then. His moustache barely showed brown through the grey that seemed to consume it.

"You wanted to know what that device was?" asked Riley. Gordon snapped back to reality as he remembered the current problems he faced. A copycat. Some rookie who thinks he or she can replace his friend. He looked at Riley.

"What do you have?" asked Gordon.

"That's it, Commissioner…we don't have anything. Nobody seems to know what it is. And we can't get in touch with Mr. Fox or Mr. Sionis. We're in the dark here, Commissioner," said Riley. Gordon shook his head.

"So much for our lead," said Gordon. He walked into his office and placed the box on his desk. He rubbed his forehead as he removed his glasses. He sighed.

The lights went out. There were startled gasps. Gordon pulled the flashlight out from his side. He clicked it on.

"Get the lights back on now!" yelled Gordon. Several officers tried the light switches.

Nothing.

Gordon was concerned. He had a rough idea who this was.

"Damn it. He's after the device. Lock down the place! He's not getting out!" yelled Gordon. He rushed in the dark as the lights flickered on and off. He took his gun out of the holster and raised it. He turned around wildly. The lights stayed on a little longer as Gordon got to the long hallway. He stopped. A small cylindrical object rolled out from the shadows. Gordon looked at it for a moment, then it exploded with a yellowish gas.

"Gas grenades! Look out!" Gordon yelled. But Gordon wasn't quick enough as he inhaled some of the gas. He began coughing, which only let more of the gas into his body. He looked up as the gas cleared. He saw a man in a business suit with his back towards him.

"Hello?" he asked. He looked around.

He was alone. Alone with this man. Gordon slowly approached this man. He had his gun but he let it drop to the ground. The man in the suit just stood there.

"Who are you?" asked Gordon. "Give me a name!"

The man in the suit remained silent. The shadows concealed his head. All Gordon saw was the man's back. He kept approaching the man. A coin flew up from the man's hand as it landed on the ground in front of Gordon.

It had a damaged side, it looked burnt. Gordon picked it up as he examined the coin. It had two heads. One was clean and shiny. The other was burnt and distorted.

It had two faces. Gordon looked back at the man.

He was facing Gordon now.

He raised a gun to Gordon.

"Harvey?" he asked. Gordon walked closer and saw the man's face. Or faces. One half of his face was perfect and clean and the other side was scarred severally showing his muscles and jaw. It was very hard to look at. Gordon was terrified of this man. Harvey Dent. But Gordon had another name for him.

"What is my name, Jim?" asked the man.

"Harvey? Harvey Dent," said Gordon.

"No…what's your name for me, Jim?" asked the man.

"Two…Two Face…" said Gordon trembling. Two Face raised his gun.

"I'm going to punish you, Jim. Just like me, you'll never see your family again," said Two Face.

Two Face fired the gun and Gordon fell into the darkness.

Crane stood in the hallway where Dent stood. He sighed.

"Sorry, Commissioner," said Crane through his mask. Blake was wearing a breathing mask as he ran through the building. He was wearing his Nightwing suit.

"It was a tranquilizer dart, right?" asked Blake.

"Concentrated dose," said Crane. As he reloaded the gun. "He'll be out for a few hours. He'll think it was all a dream. They all will." He continued firing at the cops.

Blake burst into Gordon's office, he grabbed the device as the gas went off again. Some of the cops began to open fire at the two masked men.

"Let's get a move on, rookie! If you were him, you'd have this whole thing done by now," said Crane. Blake grabbed the box on Gordon's desk. He placed his own box on Gordon's desk with a note attached to it. Blake paused for a minute. And then turned to Scarecrow. He walked over to him.

"Everything done?" asked Blake.

"As far as I'm aware," said Crane. Blake nodded. He head-butted Crane. Crane fell to the ground.

"What the hell?" yelled Crane. Blake cuffed him to the door handle of Gordon's office.

"You broke into the GCPD, attacked the cops, and shot the Commissioner with a tranq dart. You didn't think you'd get away with this, did you?" asked Blake. Crane smiled.

"Well played, rookie. But…let's just say this…you're on my list now," said Crane. Blake punched him, knocking him out. He held the box in his hands as he dove through the window. The wind rushed around him as he held out his arms. The bird shaped cape snapped out and he glided into the night.

…

Gordon awoke on a sofa in the GCPD. He rubbed a sore spot on his body where the dart hit him. The sun was almost blinding as he squinted his eyes.

"Commissioner Gordon! Glad to see you're awake. An old friend of yours attacked the building last night," said Riley helping Gordon up.

"It was Dent. I saw him," said Gordon.

"Close. It was Dr. Crane. Looks like one of our guys cuffed him to the door. Although no one's admitting it, sir," said Riley.

"Where's Crane now?" asked Gordon.

"In the interrogation room. He keeps going on about the Batman," said Riley. Gordon found this to be very curious.

"What was he after?" asked Gordon. Riley pointed to Gordon's office.

"He was cuffed to your door," said Riley. "We were thinking you might know."

Gordon walked into his office and sat down in his chair at his desk. The box was still there. Or was it? Gordon looked at it closely and saw that a paper was attached to the lid.

It was a strange image. Almost like the chalk symbols Gordon saw on the side of buildings last year…but this one was upside down. And it looked more like a bird. Gordon looked up when he heard footsteps approach his office.

"Commissioner, I hate to bother you after a night like last night…but they just found the body of George Wallis and Detective Allen in the old warehouse on 22nd street," said Riley.

Gordon froze.

**Let me explain this ending further. If you turn the chalk bat symbol upside down, it looks very similar to the Nightwing symbol. Google it. Also, an announcement! I am creating a website, along with a few others. This website will house the mini-series two months before they appear on . Also, the movie script for the story and the mini series will be on this site. As of yet, the site is still in progress. But, if you love this story and you're a fan of my work, I will have my own website. Please review. This was one of those test chapters. I'm not sure whether or not I'll have It in the final version. **


	18. EIGHTEEN

**EIGHTEEN**

Steam rises, smells rise, and George Wallis watches over the entire operation. He wasn't very excited about it nor did he want to do it. But Sionis has lost a lot of people…Wallis was all that was left in his production team and Wallis knew Viti personally. So Wallis got drafted into the service.

_It's only for a little while, Mr. Wallis. I'm looking for new people all the time._ Sionis' words bounced around in Wallis' head. He wasn't liking the sound of that. He didn't know how Viti died nor everyone else involved in the project. He just knew that they were dead and Sionis wouldn't talk about it. He looked around at the small team of seven men that Sionis hired promising easy money.

They weren't chemists. They just had to dispose of the chemicals that weren't exactly correct. Sionis grabbed drug dealers and meth cooks, who know how to work with exact measurements. There was no chemical product being made here. The steam was for the boiling of the chemical that wasn't right. Hot water destroyed the chemical's burning property or melting of the skin, making it safer and easier to handle. It was a processing station. Sionis stopped the shipments. They had enough of the chemical for Sionis' plan. It was all about making it ready for use. And Sionis needed it done sooner rather than later.

The sound of a car screeching to a halt made Wallis' blood run cold.

"Guard the doors," said Wallis. The men stopped their work and grabbed the guns they had concealed.

"That won't do any good," said a voice within the warehouse. An older gentlemen leaning on a cane walked out of the darkness. "There's a S.W.A.T team outside those doors courtesy of yours truly."

"Thought you were retired, detective?" asked Wallis raising his gun.

"I was persuaded otherwise," said Cyprus Allen.

Gunshots were heard outside the warehouse. Detective Allen knew what that meant. The only thing he didn't know about was how.

"You're not the only ones with friends, Mr. Allen," said Wallis.

The lights went out.

"You can say that again, Mr. Wallis," said Allen. The lights came back on and Nightwing stood behind Wallis. Gunfire erupted in the warehouse as the men began to fire at Nightwing. He pressed the device again and the lights went out.

"Where the hell did he go?" yelled one of the men.

There was a yell in the dark as one of the men were pulled up by the grapple gun. The lights came back on as Nightwing fell to the floor. He swung a punch at one of the men, knocking him to the floor. He dodged the knife from one of the other men. He grabbed the knife and twisted his arm, just in time as another thug swung at him with his fist. He caught the man's fist and kicked him in the stomach. He then jabbed the next in the head and capped the other's ears. Five men down, two to go. He grabbed the next and elbowed him in the next, the sound of a bone breaking filled Wallis' ears. He turned and ran towards the door. Allen grabbed him and Wallis was halted.

"I can't let you leave, George," said Allen.

"Neither can I," said Wallis. He turned and fired the gun at Allen. He yelled in pain as he clutched his left shoulder. Allen fell to the ground. Nightwing finished with the last thug in time to see Allen get shot. He watched Wallis turn and run out the door. Nightwing ran towards Allen.

"Are you ok?" asked Nightwing. Allen smiled through his pain.

"Define ok?" asked Allen.

"I can get you to the hospital," said Nightwing.

"No…you don't let that son of a bitch escape," said Allen. Nightwing put a hand on Allen's right shoulder.

"I'll get him," said Nightwing. He went out the door after Wallis. He closed the door as he saw Wallis driving off in a car. He pressed a different button on his belt. The Batpod, with self-navigation, arrived at Blake's location in a few seconds. Blake got onto the motorcycle-like vehicle and drove off into the night, following Wallis.

The night concealed Blake quite well as he sped down towards the stolen vehicle. Wallis knew that he would follow. He pulled out his cell phone and frantically dialed Sionis' number. A voice answered but it was not Sionis'.

"You're party cannot be reached at the present time. At the tone, please leave a message." A tone followed after three seconds.

"Hey, Sionis…you picked a hell of a time to not pick up. The cops found us. They've found the factory. The Batman wanna-be is on my tail. I'm honestly thinking he's back from the dead. I mean, he's wearing the suit, he's driving the motorcycle thing, and he took out seven of my men in 30 seconds. He's-"

There was an explosion to the back of Wallis' car and it did a front flip, landing right side up. Wallis checked himself as the airbags deployed. He looked in the rear view mirror.

He was there.

The chase took them all the way to the rebuilt Wayne bridge that connected Gotham to the outer world. The last bridge that blew up during Bane's terrorism. It was named in honor of Bruce Wayne. He reached over to the glove box and pulled out a small handgun. He looked at it, checked the clip to see how many bullets it had, and exited the vehicle. He turned and pointed his gun at the Bat-pod.

There wasn't a driver.

Wallis was terrified. He started to run back to his car. The Bat-pod fired one shot, destroying the car. Wallis was breathing heavily. He smiled to shake off his terror.

"You're him? Aren't ya? You're the Batman!" asked Wallis.

"No," said a voice behind him. Wallis turned and saw the dark figure of a man. "I'm Nightwing." Blake punched Wallis square in the jaw. Stumbling back, Wallis clutched his mouth. He felt one of teeth fall out and he was sure that his nose was bleeding. He spat the tooth and a mouthful of blood onto the pavement.

"You and I both know that you don't kill. You'll break a bone or two. Maybe give me a concussion. But I'll live. It's your quid pro quo. You're calling card. But me? I don't live by those rules, Nightwing," said Wallis.

"Neither do I," said Blake. He punched Wallis in the stomach, grabbed his throat, and pulled him over to the side of the bridge. It was several hundred feet down into the cold waters. Wallis frantically tried to get back to the solid ground. "Who do you work for?!"

"Y-you have nothing to scare me with. You won't kill," said Wallis.

Blake let him go. Wallis screams were heard as he began his descent through the darkness. There was a shot fired and Wallis stopped falling. He began to rise. He stopped, upside down, as he looked at Nightwing.

"I will not ask again…who do you work for?" asked Nightwing.

"Sionis…Roman Sionis. You know? The guy who bought Wayne Enterprises? He's doing some shady business," said Wallis.

"What?" said Nightwing shaking Wallis.

"I don't know. He never told me about it. All he told me was I needed to run his little operation at the warehouse," said Wallis.

"What does he want with the chemical?" asked Blake.

"I-I don't know," said Wallis.

"You're lying!" yelled Nightwing.

"No! I swear I don't know!" yelled Wallis back.

"You're-" but Nightwing was interrupted by the roar of a helicopter and several S.W.A.T. vehicles approaching the bridge.

"This is the GCPD. Put the man back on the bridge and put your hands where we can see them," said a voice through a megaphone. Blake complied. He unhooked Wallis and placed him on the bridge. Wallis then ran into the dark. Away from Blake and the GCPD.

"Put your hands on your head now and turn around slowly!" said the voice in the helicopter. Blake turned and faced the two teams, who each had semi-automatic rifles in their hands and were covered head to toe with more armor than Blake had on. "Don't try anything! We have the entire place surrounded!"

Blake looked at the helicopter and then the armed force. He slowly pressed a button on his wrist and was surrounded by smoke.

"Open fire!" said the guards. Blake ran to the side of the bridge and jumped off. The wind whipped around him as he fell. He held his arms in close until he was about a three feet above the water. The wings opened up and he glided up above the water. The S.W.A.T. teams never saw him as he glided into the night.

…

Wallis reentered the warehouse. He looked around the place. Everything was ruined. Sionis wasn't going to be happy. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. He dialed Sionis' number and put the phone to his ear.

"Run into trouble, George?" asked a voice in the dark. Roman Sionis appeared from the shadows.

"Mr. Sionis. I…uh…I was just calling you," said Wallis.

"I got your message. These things happen. I see you killed Detective Allen," said Sionis, pointing to the limp body of the fallen detective.

"He learned about the whole thing," said Wallis. Sionis sighed.

"And what about this Batman?" asked Sionis.

"It's not him. He must've trained an heir. He calls himself Nightwing, sir. He…also knows about your plan," said Wallis. Sionis put a finger to his mouth as he walked around the room.

"I wonder how he could've known about my plan? I wouldn't get that if I broke into a random warehouse creating chemicals. Is there something you want to tell me…before I tell you what you told him?" said Sionis.

"You bugged me?" asked Wallis.

"It's nothing personal, George…we all have a move to make in this chess game…and I'm afraid…you made the wrong one," said Sionis.

"Wait…no!" yelled Wallis. A gunshot rang out through the warehouse. The body of George Wallis, eyes wide with terror, fell to the ground. Looking at the shape of Sionis whose face was covered by a black shadow.


	19. NINETEEN

**NINETEEN**

**So, I wrote everything out for this story and in this chapter…Ivy was supposed to kill Wallis…but she can't do that because he's dead. So, I've decided to ignore the story I planned out and write a chapter without my layout and my creative assistant. No offense, Sam. So, let's deal with the aftermath of the last two chapters and create more mayhem. Also, the number of chapters I've completed is the age I am. **

A plastic sheet was placed over the body of Cyprus Allen. Commissioner Gordon looked away from the corpse. He walked past the body of George Wallis as well. A pool of fresh blood covered the floor.

"This was recent," said Gordon.

"Within the last 3 or 4 hours, I'd say," said Riley. Gordon rubbed his forehead.

"Do we have any leads?" asked Gordon.

"Allen was shot…but Wallis wasn't carrying a weapon. Wallis was assaulted physically and has a tooth missing along with a few broken ribs and major internal bleeding. Someone beat the crap out of him," said Riley.

"Could it have been Allen?" asked Gordon.

"No, Detective Allen died an hour before Wallis," said Riley. "But, our teams were contacted last night before we were attacked by Crane. The number was private and can't be traced. They got to the warehouse and were ambushed by snipers on the roof. They watched as a stolen car and a…motorcycle-like vehicle sped away from the scene. No license plate. No identification of any sort. But they followed it and found someone on Wayne Bridge. He's calling himself Nightwing. They tried to engage the target but he escaped without a trace."

"So…you're telling me our copycat…Nightwing…killed Allen, chased Wallis, escaped the S.W.A.T. teams, and killed Wallis at the same place he killed Allen?" asked Gordon.

"Right now…it's the only story that makes sense," said Riley. Gordon sighed. "Sir, we need to address the public…the mayor needs to know that we have a murdering vigilante out there. We need to get this guy a warrant."

"Then why are you telling me that. Get on it," said Gordon. Riley left the warehouse. Gordon closed his eyes.

_Bruce…why did you leave us, _he thought.

…

Victor Fries watched the shadows move around him. He heard the whines of the machines and the screeches of tools as they continued to build more things for Sionis. He breathed deeply and exhaled. The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall as Roman Sionis approached Victor.

"So? Have you thought about my offer?" asked Sionis.

"You drive a hard…bargain, Mr. Sionis," said Fries.

Sionis smiled.

"Let's just say…that I'm getting…tired of lying in…bed all day," said Fries.

"Then I'll take that as a yes?" asked Sionis.

"It…certainly isn't a no," said Fries. "Now…let's see this suit."

Sionis looked happy. But he stopped Fries.

"There are some things you should know about this suit…things that may make you rethink this operation," said Sionis.

"No…matter…what you say…I'm…getting in that suit," said Fries.

"Understood. Now, in order for you to live. I've recreated the conditions in which you were exposed to in the chamber…but it is a liquid. Once submerged in it, you must remain in it or you will die. It will literally melt you where you stand…actually it will disintegrate you...that's a better term. Now, I wasn't joking before…you need to do whatever I ask you or I turn the machine your wife is being held in…off. Do I make myself clear?" said Sionis.

"I think you did earlier," said Fries.

"Good. At least you still have some intelligence. My staff will move you into the suit immediately," said Sionis. But your body must first adapt to the chemical. You will be submerged in it for 3 hours. We have a tank for you. You will stay in the tank as the suit is put on you. You can breathe in this chemical. Your suit will be filled with this liquid as will the headpiece or helmet. Your eyes will not. You will be wearing a special pair of goggles that won't be destroyed by the liquid. It will feel weird but you will get used to it. Your food is supplied within the chemical as well as the evacuation of wastes. Don't worry, Victor. We've tested this as best as we can."

"Wait…will I…be able…to see Nora again?" asked Fries.

"If you do all that I ask…then yes," said Sionis.

"No…will…I be able…to see…Nora again," said Fries.

"Are you asking if you'll be able to hold her? No…at least not without the suit," said Sionis. "You can't hold her in your present condition anyway."

Fries closed his eyes.

"When…do we…begin?" asked Fries.

…

Lucius Fox stood between terminuses at the Gotham Airport. He looked at the map, desperately trying to find his plane. The word vigilante made him look at the small screen in the airport lobby of the B3 terminus.

"GCPD has publically announced that the vigilante known as Nightwing be detained for the murders of former detective Cyprus Allen and George Wallis. Although the Commissioner was seen at the warehouse today, he did not give any comment to GCN. Mayor Hamillton Hill had this to say about Nightwing."

The scene changed to an older white haired mayor who stood outside the Town Hall.

"I can't believe that we now have to be on the lookout from a threat that appears and disappears. This city has been through so much this last decade…I think we all just want a break," said Mayor Hill.

"Mr. Mayor, rumors are going around that the Batman is this Nightwing…what do you have to say about that?" asked an amateur reporter named Jack Ryder.

"I'd say that's a load of horse crap. Batman was a hero. This Nightwing is not. If he was, the crime rate would be going down…not up. This Nightwing has a set objective…he's not our protector and he's not watching our backs. He's a menace and needs to be taken out by force if necessary."

The scene changed back to Mike Engvel.

"At this time, all we can do is hope that Gotham's finest can get this guy off the streets and behind bars. Coming up…a giant crocodile in the sewers is causing some maintenance men to quit their jobs."

Fox looked away from the television. He thought for a long moment.

"Flight 194 now boarding in terminal B12," said the speaker overhead. Fox looked at his ticket and the map. He went off in the direction of the now boarding terminal.

…

Gordon sat down in his chair. He hadn't even opened the package that had been left on his desk by Blake yet. The mess at the warehouse was pretty much cleaned up. The funeral arrangements for Detective Allen were being made. The GCPD would pay for it. He picked up the package and opened the box, knocking the note aside.

There was a small container of a blue chemical and a paper underneath it. Again it showed the upside down chalk bat symbol and a message.

Roof at 7pm, read the message. Gordon looked at his clock. It was five til. He got up from his chair and left the office.

…

He opened the door leading to the roof as he stumbled out. He walked over to the spotlight which held the new bat symbol on it.

"Light it up," said a voice behind him.

It was Nightwing. Gordon flicked the switch and an upside down bat symbol appeared in the sky, in the shape of a bird.

"You're not him…are you?" asked Gordon. Nightwing shook his head. "Everyone wants me to arrest you…they're saying you've killed people."

"What do you think?" asked Nightwing.

"I think you're trying to be someone you're not," said Gordon. "Don't make me find out who you are when there's no time left to say thank you. If you tell me who you are…I won't tell anyone."

Nightwing looked at Gordon for a minute. He then removed his mask.

"Blake?" said Gordon in astonishment.

"Commissioner," said Blake.

"I guess we can rule out the idea of you killing someone," said Gordon. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Blake put the mask back on.

"Because…we needed time to find our own paths. You can't always rely on me to be there as your back up. You were desperate. You were looking for a way for the Batman to rise from the ashes. But…I learned something, Commissioner. A hero doesn't have to be the person who dawned the cape and cowl. A hero can be anyone. Most importantly…a hero…the Batman…is a symbol. Not one man," said Blake.

"Then why not be him instead of this Nightwing?" asked Gordon.

"The people look up to their symbol. I can't be that symbol. I can be the hero that Gotham deserves," said Blake. Gordon looked away at the skyline of Gotham.

"This chemical…what do you know about it?" asked Gordon.

"Thought you'd like to know what I've been doing. I've been following these shipments for a few months. I got someone to analyze it. It's a type of biological acid. It can be livable but someone must be either submerged in it or must keep applying it or it destroys you," said Nightwing.

"Any idea who would want this chemical and for what use?" asked Gordon.

"My last contact, George Wallis, told me Roman Sionis was behind the production of this chemical. He didn't say why and he didn't say where…but Sionis needs it for something," said Nightwing.

"Sionis is the head of Wayne Enterprises…not the head of the mob. He's the most trusted man in Gotham…more so than me," said Gordon.

"What do you mean?" asked Nightwing.

"The mayor's replacing me within a month unless I catch you. We both know that I'm not going to stop you," said Gordon.

"I could use a friend to keep these guys off my back," said Nightwing.

"There's one more thing I have to know about. Bruce Wayne. He left you this, didn't he?" asked Gordon.

Nightwing didn't answer.

"He left you this, Blake. I just want to know…is the Batman alive?" asked Gordon.

"The Batman…is alive. The man who wore the mask…is not, Commissioner," said Nightwing.

Gordon looked away and turned to go back to the door. He paused. He had one more thing to ask Blake. He turned as he spoke.

"Blake…I was wondering…" Gordon stopped.

Nightwing was gone.

"I'm getting too old for this," said Gordon.


	20. TWENTY

**TWENTY**

**I'm quite impressed that the last three chapters only took tiny bits and pieces from the layout me and my friend created. So, let's see how I can surprise you all today. Also, only 18 more reviews and I contact someone about possibly making this official…or making my own website featuring this series. Also also, I am creating two new MEDIA projects. The first is an audiobook of this series…that will start most likely after this book is finished…so in April. The second is an audio drama series called The Walking Dead. Pretty much me and some well-known YouTube voice actors (couldn't get Brock Baker) are going to create an audio book for The Walking Dead comics. If you're interested in this series and want to be in it, please let me know…also…if I can get enough people…we'll do the same thing with The Nightwing series. No video. Just audio. I have no budget to make a live action Batman spinoff…that's why I'm writing one. **

Like a leaf in the wind, Fries was lightly pushed around as the tank cycled and moved the liquid around, making sure it was extremely clean. Although it didn't matter. Any type of contaminant Fries might have brought in with him would've been eradicated. Sionis watched from outside as two robotic arms began to form the suit around him. It was like putting on a uniform or a diving suit. Layer by layer went on. First the outer metal coating, then the extra tanks of the chemical, and then next the helmet. The first layer was sealed shut before the robotic arms began the next layer. All the time, Fries was wearing bright red circular goggles. Almost like a tanner's goggles, these had no straps and were attached to Fries' skin before he was submerged in the liquid. Sionis was amazed at the process. He was going to make a man, who faced certain death, walk amongst the living once again. He was quite proud of himself. But he knew what this was.

It was a weapon.

The final part of the suit was assembled. It looked like the Batman suit. That's because it was, with some minor tweaks and ramifications. The original Batman suit didn't and couldn't hold liquids inside it. It was meant for flying, not holding liquids. The suit had to be made so that a helmet could cover Fries head. It wasn't a big astronaut looking helmet. It was actually shaped like Fries' head. Sionis made a cast for the engineers to work off of. It was bullet-proof glass. That was Sionis' idea. He figured Fries would be shot at for the work that he was doing for him. Last thing he needed was his greatest weapon dead on the first try. The tank began to drain the liquid as the last of the suit was assembled.

Mr. Freeze was born.

…

The headlights shone through the apartment window. A man got out of the car and proceeded to his apartment. After what had happened last night, at the warehouse, he needed to relax. He was promised money and plenty of it…but no one said anything about Batman wanna-bes breaking and entering and beating the crap out of you. No. John Goodman knew better. When trouble starts showing up, you leave or you end up in jail…or worse. The real reason he decided to split was because he found out today that Wallis was dead.

Dead.

Not imprisoned. Not recovering at a hospital. No. He was lying somewhere with a bullet in his chest and not a care in the world. Goodman desperately throughout the day tried to think who could've killed him. He decided to let it go. It didn't concern him. And if there's one thing he learned in this world it was that you best not go into things that don't concern you. Bad things happen when you try travel down that road. He was at the door to the apartment building when his cellphone rang. He looked at it and sighed as he recognized the number.

"Talk to me, Batemen. What do you want?" asked Goodman.

"Just confirming that you are alive, Mr. Goodman. Six bodies were just found. Someone's taking them out and you're next, John," said a stern Irish voice on the other line.

"Jesus…is it the same person who killed Wallis?" asked Goodman.

"Could be…I've tried to reach our boss…but he won't talk to me. He only talked to Wallis. You at your apartment?" asked Batemen.

"I'm walking in as we speak," said Goodman.

"Get there and stay there. I don't know who they are or why they're doing this…but they are trying to kill us all. Well, at least the seven of you who got away last night. Who attacked you last night anyway?" asked Batemen.

"Some guy who wants to be Batman…did a good job at it too," said Goodman. "You think it's the same guy?"

"They're saying this Nightwing killed Allen…but you say it was Wallis who killed Allen. I don't know…everything seems to be a blur. Let me just say…you can't trust anyone," said Batemen. "I'll be in touch…you get somewhere safe."

The call ends and Goodman puts the phone in his pocket. He's about to open the door of the building when he hears the sound of high heels approaching from the darkness.

A red headed woman appears and walks quickly towards him. She doesn't show any emotion but Goodman can't take his eyes off her. He's overwhelmed by her beauty. The woman looks up at him and smiles as they lock eyes. He approaches her and she does the same. She smiles as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small gun.

Goodman's smile immediately fades. He backs away from the woman but all turns to blackness as the gun is fired and a small dart hits him on the neck. He falls in front of the building.

…

Sionis smiled as Fries was released from the tank. The suit was firmly attached to Fries and he was sure that the man was able to move around.

"How is it, Mr. Fries?" asked Sionis.

"It will work. I'm assuming you have something for me to do?" asked Fries.

"I'm glad to see the chemical has helped your speaking impairment. At the present time, I have a small task for you to do for me…create an explosive using liquid nitrogen, if you would," said Sionis.

"An explosive? Like a bomb?" asked Fries.

"Preciously," said Sionis.

"That's impossible, Mr. Sionis. I've been researching the principles of liquid nitrogen and it's freezing properties…it will not do any harm to a living creature," said Fries.

"I never said I was going to use it on a living creature," said Sionis. "Build my bomb. You have two weeks."

Sionis began to walk away but he stopped.

"Also, Victor…I think you should go by a different name," said Sionis.

"And what name do you suggest?" asked Fries.

"Well…the name the public has declared for you," said Sionis. He threw a newspaper at Fries. The date was old but the message was still clear. The title on the front page told Fries exactly what Sionis was saying.

**MR. FREEZE DIES AT GOTHAM GENERAL TODAY**

…

Goodman awoke as his eyes fluttered open. He was in a greenhouse. Darkness surrounded him and yet it felt very warm to him.

The sound of high heels made him remember what had happened. Goodman tried to move. But he couldn't. He was not bound nor tied to anything. No chains, no cuffs. Nothing.

He was paralyzed. He desperately tried to scream, but nothing came out. He breathed heavily and loudly. The red haired woman entered the greenhouse.

"It's amazing, isn't it…what a half milligram of tetrodotoxin does to the human body," said the woman. "I bet you have much to ask me. I bet you are wondering why you. I bet you thought you were going to get lucky tonight. But I don't like to bet. So, let's just say those things are true. Ok? So, here's what I'm willing to do. I have the antidote right here." She held up a small test tube with a clear liquid. "All you have to do is tell me who called you," said the woman. "But…where are my manners? I'll let you ask a question first."

She sat down next to Goodman with a chart with several rows of letters. The rows each started with a different letter of the alphabet. The first row had the letters A through G, the second H-N, the third O-U, and the fourth V-Z. The fifth row had the numbers 1-10. She showed him the chart.

"Blink twice when I hit the letter…and keep the question simple. "A…B…C…D…E…F…" the man just sat there. He breathed heavily. She got to N when he blinked twice. "First letter N. A…" said the woman. Goodman blinked twice.

"NA…A…B…C…D…E…F…G…H…I…J…K…L…M…" Goodman blinked twice. She smiled. "You want to know my name?"

Goodman blinked twice.

"I'm Poison Ivy. Now…why don't you answer my question? Who called you?" asked Ivy. She went back to the chart. "A…B…"

Goodman blinked twice.

"A…"

Goodman blinked twice.

"A…B…C…D…E…F…G…H…I…J…K…L…M…N…O…P…Q…R…S…T…" said Ivy.

Goodman blinked twice.

"A…B…C…D…E"

He blinked twice. This continued until Ivy uttered the name:

"Batemen?" she asked. Goodman blinked twice. She smiled.

"Well, I think that ends our little game. As promised, here's the antidote," she rolled it to Goodman's feet. Goodman looked at the test tube and then back up to Ivy.

"Oh…you thought I was going to cure you? No…I poison people…I don't cure them. And don't waste your time. If you knew anything about tetrodotoxin then you would know that it has no antidote. And…it causes death after the final stage…paralysis. But, what's really remarkable about this toxin is that under extreme heat it causes whoever has been affected by it to have seizures and die faster…I always wanted to test that," said Ivy. She turned the huge heating lamps on overhead and the greenhouse began to heat up like a furnace. Goodman began to shake violently. He foamed from his mouth and then moved no more.

Ivy smiled and walked out of the greenhouse.

**This chapter was quite difficult to write. I had writer's block. But, eventually I found a nice way to get out of that block with Ivy appearing again. Our villains are born! Our hero is ready. Our story is reaching its apex. But I still have a few loose ends to tie up. 15 more reviews and I try to contact Warner Bros. Thank you all for your continued support of this project! You will not be disappointed. **


	21. TWENTY ONE

**TWENTY ONE**

**For those who are tired of these damn author's note and for those who actually enjoy them, I'll be creating a talk forum for The Nightwing series. Be sure to check it out…or these notes will never cease. forum/The-Nightwing-Series-Fan-Club-and-Talk-Forum/127144/ - click it! There are only a few topics right now…but more will surely come. Think of the forum as a trial version of the website. **

"What can you tell me about it?" asked Blake.

Alfred Pennyworth looked at the device that Blake stole from Gordon's office two weeks ago. Even though the sun was shining and the day was already half over, the cave was still very dark. The lamp overhead of the small work desk provided some light for the aging butler. He squinted as he looked at the device closer.

"Well, I'm not Mr. Fox…but I can tell you that whoever made this device knew what they were doing," said Alfred.

"Any indication that Sionis made it?" asked Blake unfolding his arms and walking over to Alfred. The butler looked up through his glasses.

"If you're asking for a signature or a trademark symbol, there's not one. Most people don't put their names on weapons," said Alfred.

"So, it's a weapon?" asked Blake.

"It would appear that way. This device is probably some sort of detonator," said Alfred.

"For what exactly?" asked Blake. Alfred looked up again and took off his glasses.

"I don't know. But I do know this. Roman Sionis is a powerful man. His company was destroyed by Wayne Enterprises and nearly bankrupted. Perhaps he built this a long time ago and is trying to dispose of the evidence to stop questions from being asked," said Alfred.

"Then why bring it to America and have scum like Viti handle it? Something doesn't add up. Either they are lying or Sionis has an ulterior motive. Is there anyone else that links back to Viti?" asked Blake.

"Well, I did a little digging and the only one left alive that knew Viti is Samuel Batemen. Irish immigrant. Came here in 1984 and hasn't been seen since. He was arrested for drug posession in '96. That's where he met Viti. I doubt that both men are working together today," said Alfred.

"Because Viti's dead," said Blake.

"No…because Viti killed his wife," said Alfred showing a clip from a newspaper on the computer with the headlines: **BATEMEN LOOSES WIFE AND BLAMES FRIEND.**

Blake stared at the headlines and then proceeded to where the Nightwing suit was being held.

"I'm going out," said Blake.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" asked Alfred.

"A Happy Meal would be nice," said Blake.

"Toy for a boy or girl?" asked Alfred. Blake smiled.

"I can never win with you," said Blake. He finished suiting up and hopped onto the Bat-pod. He then drove off into the daylight.

…

Samuel Batemen pulled out his phone as he sat in his car. The sun was setting and night was fast approaching. His day had been strangely normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. Batemen was a deli clerk. It was better than nothing. Usually, he got strange calls or nods from people who are looking for a certain product. Of course, as he told his former clients many times, he was no longer in business. It's very hard to be in business when the cops are breathing down your neck. So Batemen thought he should try and see how Goodman was. The radio's talk show was on. It was another show with Gotham's favorite bright new face, Jack Ryder. They were going on about the new vigilante and wondering if he was a new Batman or a terrorist in the making. Batemen could care less, until they brought up a particular warehouse and started talking about the aftermath of that night. Batemen knew this story, so he dialed Goodman's number and held the phone to his ear. The radio crackled low.

"And they are now saying a seventh body has been linked back to the warehouse. DNA tests have confirmed the body of Jonathan Goodman who has known and worked with Wallis before. It would appear that whoever is killing these people has a purpose and it's starting to look like this killer's track is running cold. I mean who else knew Goodman?" said the voice of Jack Ryder.

Batemen quickly ended the call. He locked his car and drove off into the approaching night.

…

Nightwing sat on the roof of Batemen's apartment. He heard the strange reports of more bodies being found. He wondered who was after them and since Batemen is the last one…he would have the answers. Batemen knew Viti. He might be able to shed show light on this subject. But he feared Batemen might already be the killer's next target. He reached around his belt and pulled out a 3 inch cylindrical object. He compressed and pulled the object and it expanded to 3 feet in length. Nightwing positioned the bar between two metal beams. He attached a small hook to his belt and he jumped off the side of the building. The rope descended slowly as he squeezed the hook and finally stopped by one of the windows. He then reached around and pulled a small spherical object. Nightwing pressed a button on the small object. Once he did that, small pegs popped out that made the device look like a small underwater mine. He placed it on the window. It began beeping. Nightwing pushed off the wall as the device exploded shattering the glass of the window. Nightwing returned to the wall and as he did he unhooked the hook from his belt and dove through the window.

He flipped as he landed in Batemen's apartment. He looked around the dark apartment. No one was there. He got up and began walking around the apartment. He couldn't find any notes that said where Batemen might be. He looked on his desk and all he found was a small business card for The Jungle Strip Club. He turned the card over and saw a name on it.

Carly.

…

Batemen stood at the front of the strip club. A young brunette wearing an animal outfit that only covered her breasts and lower regions. She smiled at him.

"Mr. Batemen, the usually I presume?" she asked. Batemen nodded. The brunette went off back into the club. "Give me a few minutes to tell her."

She walked back to a room standing outside the door of the room.

"Carley? Mr. Batemen is here. You ready?" she asked.

"Just a minute," said Carley. Inside the room she was applying the last of her costume. When she heard something in her room. "Hello?"

The red haired petite named Carly looked back into the closet.

"You'll have to forgive me," said a voice behind Carley. She spun and was knocked out. Poison Ivy stood next to the unconscious woman. "What am I saying? You had it coming."

…

The brunette returned to Batemen.

"Carly is ready for you. Follow me, Mr. Batemen," said the brunette. Bateman followed. He looked at the strippers on the poles as men flashed money about hooting. He smiled as he went to his private session.

…

Batemen entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Hey, gorgeous…I'll pay you a little extra to surprise me," said Batemen turning around. He saw Ivy.

"How about I give it to you for free?" said Ivy. She was dressed in a costume that was made of huge green leaves that also only covered her breasts and private area.

"Who are you? What do you want?" asked Batemen. "Where's Carly?"

Ivy walked over to Batemen and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Carly couldn't be with you tonight, handsome. I'm Ivy and I think you know what I want. I want to make you happy," said Ivy with a smile. She sat him down in a chair and proceeded to give him a lap dance. Batemen sighed as he got caught up in the moment. He smiled. Ivy continued as she leaned in close and kissed Batemen. Batemen was shocked but didn't fight it. He kissed her back.

But he stopped.

Ivy smiled as Batemen began to foam at the mouth. He began to shake violently.

"Did I mention I'm poisonous?" said Ivy.

Batemen fell to the ground.

"Now…Sionis…he's behind your little operation…isn't he?" asked Ivy.

Batemen nodded.

"Thought so…it's nice to see you again, Samuel. For the last time…I would've gotten a divorce…you can thank Viti for that…rot in hell, honey," said Ivy. Batemen continued foaming at the mouth as he watched Ivy leave the room.

…

Nightwing watched from across the roof as an ambulance was parked at the entrance of The Jungle. He saw a man on a stretcher being wheeled into the ambulance. Before the sheet was placed over him, Blake saw the frozen face of Samuel Batemen.

He lowered his head and glided off into the night.


	22. TWENTY TWO

**TWENTY TWO**

**I know some people love these author's notes…but isn't a forum an easier form of communication? You won't be disappointed and those who are by this note, you won't be either. **

Anger. That's all he felt. Day after day…lead after lead…gone. Wasted away into nothing. John Blake sat in the penthouse apartment still wearing his Nightwing suit. But he didn't have his mask on. The light of day shone through the windows overlooking the city. He saw the city skyline. There was a knock on his door. Blake didn't respond.

The door opened and Alfred slowly walked in.

"How are you holding up?" asked Alfred.

"He was dead. Dead before I even got there," said Blake. He turned and looked at Alfred. "How do you think I am holding up?"

"There was nothing you could've done," said Alfred.

"That's exactly what they said when I was nine. But…that doesn't change the fact that someone could've done something to prevent it. I was that person. I am supposed to be that person. Let's face the facts…perhaps we should just face them instead of hiding them. I'm not who Bruce was. I have tried and yet…here I remain," said Blake calmly.

"Perhaps you're just being a little too hard on yourself. You have to fail in order to-"

"No, you don't get it! I've failed since day one, Alfred! It's not going to get better!" yelled Blake interrupting Alfred. His anger got the best of him. "I've followed leads and I've been out almost every night trying to figure out what's next and make connections only to find another corpse! There is no learning to pick myself up! There's no calm down and try again! There's no more training that needs to be done! This city needs one man! And I'm not him!"

Alfred looked down at the floor. And then he looked back at Blake.

"Mr. Blake…how is this different from when you were a cop? What has changed? Sure you don't carry a gun…but instead you carry new weapons made by Fox. And instead of a police uniform you wear a new uniform. A symbol. But if this is not what you wanted. If you think Master Wayne got the wrong man for the job then you can go running off into the bloody blue and live whatever life you want. In fact, that's what I told Master Wayne to do. This job…isn't easy. And it's better for someone like you. You don't have a lot to lose…he did. Ms. Rachel Dawes…died nine years ago during The Joker's reign of terror in Gotham. He loved her. That was his plan for a life away from Batman. He was going to settle down someday and have a family. But before that…before Batman…he was gone for a long time. He travelled the world searching for true justice. But then he did something I never wanted him to do…he came back here. I want to tell you to go and find your life and live happily ever after…but this city…these people…they need you. So, I know it's going to be hard and I know that leads will go cold. But you can't quit, John. Not yet," said Alfred as he exited the penthouse.

Blake thought about Alfred's words and meditated on them. He breathed heavily as he rose from his chair and picked up his mask.

…

Mark Desmond rubbed his head. These last few days had been tough on him. Pam broke up with him. He murdered his co-worker and long-time friend and the mastermind behind the entire plan hasn't spoken to Desmond since he arrived in America. He continued his research on the super growth serum. The syringe was full as he inserted the needle into the small rodent in the cage in front of him. The mouse's behavior didn't change immediately. It then rolled onto its side and began kicking wildly. The mouse stopped moving and breathing. It was dead. Desmond looked at his clipboard and recorded what had happened.

"Another dead end, Desmond?" asked a familiar voice behind him. It was Roman Sionis. Desmond smiled as the business man approached.

"Mr. Sionis. How's Wayne Enterprises doing these days?" asked Desmond shaking his hand.

"It will be better once I get what you promised to deliver," said Sionis. Desmond's smile faded.

"The tests have been negative, Mr. Sionis. I need more time," said Desmond.

"Time is the one thing I have very little of, Mark. You need to give me some constructive results or you will give me no choice but to cut your funding," said Sionis. He turned and was about to leave when Desmond chimed up.

"I'll test it on myself next Monday, sir," said Desmond. Sionis stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Desmond, I'm flattered…but killing yourself won't solve anything," said Sionis.

"No, sir. You don't understand. I have cancer," said Desmond. "I've been doing numerous therapies and trying everything I can to give myself more time. But I'm going to die anyway…why not see if this might save my life."

"You have balls, Mr. Desmond. I will say that. You do what needs to be done. Just remember…I need those results to be positive very soon," said Sionis.

"They will, sir," said Desmond.

"Well, then. Carry on with your work. Call me if you need anything else," said Sionis. "And let's get you cured."

"Yes sir," said Desmond. Sionis began to walk out again. But he stopped once more.

"Desmond? Do you mind telling me what kind of cancer you have?" asked Sionis.

"Not at all. It's lung cancer," said Desmond. Sionis nodded.

"I see," said Sionis. He walked out of the lab leaving Desmond alone once again. He walked down the hall.

…

John Blake walked into Gordon's office.

"Commissioner, I was wondering if I could have something," asked Blake. Gordon looked at him.

"What do you need?" asked Gordon.

"My old job back. If I'm going to catch criminals…I think I need to have an alibi," said Blake.

"Well, we have a detective right now…but I think your actions during Bane's reign are worthy of a promotion, Lieutenant Blake," said Gordon giving him a new badge and his old gun. Blake shook his head.

"No guns," said Blake. "I have my own weapons."

Gordon smiled. Blake looked at the several portfolios in front of Gordon.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"These are the men at the warehouse. And Batemen. All eight were poisoned. All eight died within 48 hours of the warehouse incident. Someone's working around the clock. And they have a mission," said Gordon.

"Any suspects?" asked Blake.

"Well, you're pretty high on that list. But we can rule that one out," said Gordon. "I don't know if this might help you or not. But all these men were killed with the same poison. TTX or tetrodotoxin. Certain mob members had it for means of a slow and painful death. No antidote. No evidence. Nothing to trace back to anyone. It's the perfect murder."

"I'll do a little digging and see what I can come up with," said Blake leaving Gordon's office.

"Hey, Blake," said Gordon. John Blake stopped and turned around. "It's good to have you back, son."

"It's good to be back, sir," said Blake. He turned to leave as a large African American officer entered Gordon's office.

"Commissioner, we got a report of a car exploding near Mr. Freeze's old lab," said the officer.

"Jesus. You want to handle this one, Lieutenant?" Gordon asked Blake.

"Sure thing, sir," said Blake.

…

Sionis walked down the hall of the lab and proceeded to the entrance. He hated Desmond and didn't care if he had cancer or not. Somehow, someway, Desmond would die soon. If Sionis had to do it, then it would be done. Why he didn't do it right then and there, God only knows. He pulled his coat around him and opened the doors to go outside. He quickly walked towards his car.

A large explosion knocked him onto the ground. The car flipped as pieces of metal flew out in all directions followed by a rain of flower petals. Sionis got to his feet and felt a piercing pain in his forehead. He reached up and touched a four inch by three inch sheet of sharp metal that stuck in his head. He grabbed the piece and gutted through the stinging as the metal began to cut into his hands and pulled the piece out of his head. Blood ran down his face but he was going to live. He watched as the rain of flower petals, some ignited by the explosion and some not, landed around him.

He looked as one bright red petal landed on his coat. He picked it up and crushed it in his hand. He threw the petal to the ground. He was going to go back into the lab and call for a rental pickup or call the police. But a note taped to the door of the lab changed his mind. His anger showed on his face as he tore the note down, crumbled it up, and threw it into the raging inferno. He then left the scene. A few minutes later, all that remained was a flipped over car and thousands of rose petals that surrounded the car.

The note's words were still visible as it burned away.

**THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING, SIONIS**

A ruby red lipstick stain ended the note.

**Alright! Everyone knows about everyone! This is a crucial scene because we have now established a hatred between Poison Ivy and Roman Sionis. A hatred that we will see develop more as we near the end of this book. Still so much to do and we have another twenty eight chapters to cover it all. I'm so excited to see what happens next. Let's get this story moving! **


	23. TWENTY THREE

**TWENTY THREE**

**I've decided to take a more serious role in these author's notes. It will be a behind the scenes of the previous chapter. So, let's keep it short and simple. With the last chapter, I wanted to show the hero's descent into darkness. He becomes so overwhelmed by the loss of the investigation that he cracks. But, the last thing we want is to have a moody hero for the rest of the book. So, he goes to Gordon, and I'll probably expand upon this in the final draft, and he becomes a symbol. Something other than a vigilante. He becomes a man who's going to fight alongside Gordon and the cops to make sure this city is safe. The last part of chapter twenty two really got me thinking…Sionis doesn't know about Ivy yet...he has no reason to want her dead. So…let's change that. When you really think about it though…it's almost a plot hole being that she found out about Sionis only 24 hours earlier and somehow she rigged his car to blow up…but I think it's a plausible plot hole. All in all, the last chapter ignited the dormant coals, the fire rises now. **

John Blake picked up an unburned petal off the ground. He looked around at the wreckage and shook his head.

"Any sign of a corpse?" asked Blake. The forensic analyzers picked through the wreckage, now that it was cool, and shook their heads. Blake walked over and picked up the license plate. "Is there anyone in the building?"

"A scientist by the name of Dr. Mark Desmond. He didn't hear the blast and knows nothing about what has happened," said one of the analyzers.

Blake took out his notepad and wrote the license plate number down. He also placed the rose petal in his coat pocket. He tried to analyze what this was all about. But he first needed to find out who's car this was.

"Alright, let's call in a clean-up crew…we've got nothing to report," said Blake. _Nothing yet, _he thought.

…

Commissioner Gordon looked over his computer. He didn't see the two men enter his office. He knew exactly who they were and why they were here.

"Good afternoon, Mayor Hill," he extended his hand to the oldest of the two men. Hamilton Hill was an aging, Caucasian man in his late 50s. He had short gray hair and was just under six feet tall. He became mayor shortly after the Bane terrorism. The people elected him because they knew Mayor Hill would do everything in his power to assure the peace, prosperity, and security of the people of Gotham. What more could a healing city want? Hill also issued the warrant for the arrest of Nightwing, the vigilante who resembled the Batman. Hill wasn't going to let this character fly through the night and after what happened at the warehouse and the death of Cyprus Allen, Hill needed two new things to assure his control of Gotham. First, he needed a Commissioner he trusted and the public trusted. Gordon wasn't someone to trust after the events during the Bane terrorism.

Lucas Pauling was that man. He was a lieutenant from Metropolis, about a 4 hour drive from Gotham. Pauling was a 36 year old African American whose clean shaven face and athletic build made Gordon feel much older than he already was. He was top of his class and did his job very well. And, when offered the job of Commissioner here in Gotham, he honorable accepted. Pauling's short black hair and plucked eyebrows defined the image of a new shining Commissioner. Down to his pin stripe suit, red tie, and black dress shoes.

"Good morning, Commissioner Gordon," said Mayor Hill. "Do you mind?" Hill pointed to the chairs indicating that Gordon was supposed to tell them to sit down.

"Not at all, sir," said Gordon, bashfully. Hill and Pauling sat in the seats.

"You know why we're here…don't you, Jim?" Hill asked.

"Yes sir. I think I do," said Gordon.

"I contacted you last week saying that you were going to be replaced within 30 days. I told you that you would be removed from your position and serve as a private detective, if you so chose. I have moved up that event. Starting today, you are no longer the Commissioner. I know you've sacrificed a lot, Jim. I've seen it over the years…but it's time to step down. This city needs a new face. I know you're waiting for the next Batman or maybe the old Batman to come back…but you know as well as I do…he's not coming back," said Hill.

_That's what you think, _thought Gordon. He shook his head.

"What if we're wrong about this Nightwing guy, sir. We could be worried about nothing," said Gordon.

"That Nightwing guy killed an unarmed thug and a former detective. And…I think I have a right to say this…he's probably the one who's been killing these thugs including Samuel Batemen. The number of people who've died around this man is not some coincidence, Gordon. You can still go and investigate this guy. We just need someone who can send out the troops. You're better as a do it yourself kinda guy," said Hill.

"Can I at least take a deputy?" asked Gordon.

"Sure. Your pick," said Hill.

"Detective John Blake," said Gordon.

"Done," said Hill. "Anything else?"

"I want to come back here and have access to the roof. To show the people of Gotham that their symbol lives on," said Gordon.

"As long as you don't shine it at my window, I'll allow it," said Hill. "Now, I think Mr. Pauling has some requests he would like to share."

Pauling cleared his throat.

"I want three things from you, Commissioner Gordon. First, all security footage of the Wallis chase and all other documented sightings related to Nightwing. Second, some of the blood sample taken from the warehouse that night. You know the one I'm talking about. The unknown blood source. The Nightwing's blood," said Pauling.

"Understood. I'll have them for you by the end of the day. And what's the last thing, Commissioner Pauling?" asked Gordon.

"For you to get your ass out of my chair," said Pauling. Gordon was shocked but complied. He slowly rose from the chair and walked to Pauling's chair.

"Well, Commissioner Pauling, I'll leave it to you then. Gordon, why don't we leave the new Commissioner to his work," said Hill. Gordon followed Hill as the two left.

…

Blake stood in line at the rental car agency. The man behind the counter laughed as he talked to his friend. Blake knew what they were talking about. Drugs. Pot most likely. They were college kids and that was a college kid thing to do. Blake didn't go to college. The police force was just fine for him. It paid the bills. The friend left when he noticed he was holding up the line. Blake walked up to the counter. He showed the man the license plate number and the man began checking the records. The agent had his nose to the screen of the computer, looking for the license plate number that Blake found.

"Ah! Rented last Friday to Mr. Roman Sionis," said the man.

"I'm guessing you don't have a tracking device in your vehicle," said Blake.

"We do…but you'd need a warrant," said the man.

"How about I get a warrant for illegal drug possession…" said Blake as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh…Ok…um…I'll get you the locations the car went to," said the man. He went back to the computer. Within a minute, he printed out a sheet of locations, map coordinates the car went to. Most were repetitive but there were some that were not. Blake decided to look into it later. He had one last question to ask.

"One more thing. You go to Gotham University?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," said the man.

"Who's big on botany there?" he asked.

"Professor Rowan now…but it used to be Professor Isley. She was replaced after the incident at the college a few months ago," said the man.

"Thanks. In the future, don't talk about what you do with friends when other people are around," said Blake. He wasn't going to report the kid.

…

Lucas Pauling took out his phone and dialled a number. The tone went for a few seconds.

"Sionis?" answered the other line.

"It's me, Roman," said Pauling.

"I'm guessing you're in charge now?" asked Sionis.

"That's correct," said Pauling.

"Then you know what needs to be done. Find out who tried to kill me and find out who Nightwing is. They cannot…no…they will not mess up my plan. Understood?" said Sionis.

"Understood. What about Desmond, Roman? He's going to catch on pretty soon that you have Fries alive and well," said Pauling.

"I have Desmond under control. You worry about your mission. I moved up your coronation a month in advance for this purpose. You don't want to know what happens if you fail me," said Sionis. "I'll be in touch."

Sionis hung up and so did Pauling.

…

The streetlight provided very little light for Blake as he looked at the address Alfred told him. It was Pamala's apartment. It had to be. But somehow he wasn't too ecstatic to rush in there. He wasn't Nightwing. He decided it would be best to try engaging Isley as a normal person. He opened his car door and got out. He locked the door and proceeded to the apartment. A figure watched from the window above him. She smiled as she watched him enter her domain. Her ruby red lips formed a smile, her green dress stood out in the little bit of light.

Ivy was ready.

**I just was to say…at the end of this very long month that witnessed over 15 new chapters…I am so touched by the 2,000 views in the USA alone and the almost 5,000 views total just in this month. You guys rock and I can assure you that next month will not lighten up at all. We're almost half-way done! The miniseries is already in the planning stage. And it's gonna be good. I could've made it its own story. But it's better served as a 25 chapter miniseries! So, I guess this is confirmation, for the 100****th**** time, that there will indeed be a sequel. Miniseries will air August over the course of 25 days. I will write chapters in June. Tune in for my completely unrelated series, Jurassic Park: Extinction and check out 2014 with the return of Terra Nova in a series of 4 prequel novels and a continued tv series in Spring 2014. Dinosaurs and superheroes. I am such a kid. See ya guys next month. That being February 2013. **


	24. TWENTY FOUR

**TWENTY FOUR**

**Last chapter was another calm before the storm. It will be very interesting when I write the final version of the story. One thing I've observed is that it's very cliché, these first 23 chapters. Some huge event happens, someone dies, and there's about 3 or 4 chapters of detective work. That's not Nolan. It needs to be more Nolanized. I'm going to have to add more umph in the revised and extended version. But one thing I want to talk about is the assumption some people are making to certain villains that might appear in this story. Here are the villains that will not appear that some people think will appear: Black Mask, Killer Croc, Harley Quinn, and Hush. I know we have Thomas Elliot and Roman Sionis in the story, but let's not rush things. I said there would be sequels right? **

John Blake knocked on the door to Pamela Isley's apartment.

"Ms. Isley. Detective John Blake, please open up!" said Blake. He knocked again. "Ms. Isley?"

There was no answer. Blake began to turn away when the door opened slightly. He turned back to the door. He pulled out his gun, although he had no intention of using it. He made that mistake before. He wasn't a killer and a gun was only used for that purpose. He pushed the door open, raised his gun, and entered the dark room. The wind whistled through the open window moving the curtains around. Blake noticed the apartment was full of plants. He didn't know what type but it didn't matter. He figured he found Sionis's assassin. The door slammed as Blake looked up with a jolt.

Ivy was standing there.

"Ms. Isley?" Blake said as he approached her. "I just want to talk." He extended a hand and lowered his gun. Isley grabbed his arm and twisted it. She kicked Blake in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Blake looked up at Isley.

"So do I," she said. She had a bat in her hand and that was the last thing Blake saw before blacking out.

…

The sun rose on the sleeping city. A large crowd gathered outside the City Hall as Mayor Hill stood at a podium. Behind him stood the granite statue of Batman which was known as The Statue of Justice.

"People of Gotham. We gather here today to celebrate the first annual Batman day in honor of the day the Batman gave his life to save this entire city. But, today…we face a new threat. Our benefactor, Mr. Roman Sionis, has been victim to an attack by the criminal known as Nightwing. I want to assure the people of this fair city that this will not happen. I assured the people that the protection of all of the citizens here is key. That is why I appointed a new Commissioner to take the place of Commissioner Gordon. Former Commissioner Gordon will act as a private detective as he will bring the Nightwing character to justice. Now, here to say a few words about the new direction of Gotham's police force is someone who's really grown on me and makes me proud to call him your new commissioner. Please welcome Commissioner Lucas Pauling," said Mayor Hill as he stepped down from the podium. Applause greeted the new commissioner as he walked up to the podium.

"Thank you, Mayor Hill. I just wanted to say that the GCPD will not sleep until this criminal that is trying to be someone he's not. That is why all of our officers are now ordered to shoot to kill when they spot the Nightwing, if he does not surrender. His reign of terror over this city will end. I can promise you that, Gotham," said Pauling. The applause sounded as Pauling smiled. Gordon joined in the applause, but he looked to the roofs wondering if Nightwing was watching. Wondering what his plan was. Wondering if he even knew.

…

The rising sun shone in Blake's face, making him open his eyes. He blinked as he tried to remember last night, he then realized he was in a greenhouse. The heat was overwhelming. He tried to raise his hand to bloke the sun from his face and noticed that they were cuffed together. He pulled on the cuffs, trying to break the plastic bonds that encircled his wrists.

He then heard the sound of high heels.

He looked in the direction of the sound. Ivy noticed that Blake was conscious once more. Her emerald dress glowed in the sun and her red hair and ruby lips stood out as Blake watched her approach him. He definitely thought she was attractive. She smiled at him as she bent down to be at his eye level.

"How's it going?" asked Ivy. Blake looked at her.

"Why am I not dead?" he asked.

"It would've been too easy, detective. You don't understand how vulnerable you truly are until you are at the mercy of your predator. I learned that the hard way. But…do you want to know a secret? I know yours, detective. I know who you are. And I want you to know personally…that there's a reason you're still alive. I wanted you to have a front row seat. Because this city…this damn city…it's going to pay for what it did to me. You can try to stop me…but I won't hesitate to kill you. Consider this your only warning. Mankind's reign has ended. It's time for revenge," said Ivy.

"You talk as if you are not human, Isley. But you are," said Blake.

"I'm here to ensure this city dies. I will start here and then take everything down one city at a time," said Ivy.

"You're delusional," said Blake. "You can't possibly think you'll wipe out humanity."

"I don't have to. I just have to stir the fire," said Ivy. She rose. "If you want to know my first target...you'd better hurry. You have one hour until the bomb goes off."

"What bomb?" asked Blake.

"Well, I found out a better way of killing Sionis. Attack him at the heart," said Ivy. "I've given you enough information. You have to find out the target. But hurry…you have a short amount of time."

She pulled out a needle with a red liquid in it.

"What's that?" asked Blake.

"Just something to help me out. I'm going to give you a sedative. Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to find that bomb…most likely. It should be fun to see this outcome anyway," said Ivy. She plunged the needle into Blake's neck and Blake closed his eyes once more. She cut the bondage to Blake's arms and left the greenhouse.

…

Gordon approached his home as the afternoon dawned. He saw two men following him. He turned to face them. He pulled out his gun.

"Can I help you two gentlemen?" Gordon asked. They pulled out guns as well. Gordon raised his gun. "Put the guns down!"

The two men began to open fire. Gordon dove to take cover behind his car. Glass shattered as the bullets rained around him. He waited until the gun shots stopped. He poked his head out and fired at the men. One fell with a resounding thud. Gordon didn't know if he was dead or alive and he didn't care. More bullets tore into the car. He showed himself again. Firing at the last thug. He kept pulling the trigger, but his clip was empty. He looked down at the gun when his right shoulder seared with pain. He ducked down behind the car. He had been shot and it was a deep wound. He felt the bullet scrapping his bone. He quickly and painfully changed the clip from the gun. He rose again and fired at the last thug. He hit the man square in the chest. He then rose and put a hand to his wound. He was wounded but he would live.

A few blocks away, a man overlooking the scene picked up his phone.

"Commissioner Pauling?" asked the man.

"Speaking," answered Pauling's voice.

"Gordon's hit but still breathing. Do you have another plan?" asked the man.

"Patience, Thorne. Sionis brought you in for a reason. You need to find better men and kill Gordon," said Pauling. He hung up.

**That's right, bros! We have Rupert Thorne in this incredible story**! **This is getting intense. What will Ivy do? Where is her bomb? And why does Nightwing never get a chance to fight Ivy? And what about Freeze and his bomb? All these questions and more will be answered in the next chapter of The Nightwing. Which will premiere in about 3 hours…or it will at least feel like that. We're in the home stretch. I'm going to aim for a new chapter every single day. Maybe two if you're lucky. Also…please remember a very important detail that I can't stress enough. THIS IS A DRAFT! Treat it like a piece of crap. Because compared to the final version…that's exactly what this is. Many things will change when I sit down with my editor/story advisor/co-creator and we discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the story. **


	25. TWENTY FIVE

**TWENTY FIVE**

**In the last chapter, shit hit the fan! We have an official shoot to kill for The Nightwing, Ivy has plans and has a bomb somewhere "at the heart" of Sionis, and Gordon is on Sionis' hit list. So many things are happening and yet we're not even at the half way point. Well, now we are! We are at the half way point! And this half way point won't disappoint. So, let's get to it! See you at the end! **

John Blake held the phone to his ear as he dialled Gordon's number. He was driving his car back to the cave so he could become Nightwing once more. He waited for Gordon to pick up. But there was no answer. He waited for the tone to leave a message.

"Gordon, it's Blake. Listen. It's Isley. She's gone insane and is calling herself Poison Ivy. It matches all the information we've been gathering. I think she killed Wallis and she went around to kill the others. She's going to kill Sionis today. There's a bomb at the heart of Sionis. We need to find it now!" said Blake. He hung up and drove faster.

…

Blake suited up in the cave as Alfred typed away on the computer.

"Find anything, Alfred?" he asked.

"Nothing that relates to her hatred of Sionis. But there's something related to the Wayne family. 13 years ago, she petitioned against the destruction of the Botanical Gardens in the center of Gotham. But the Wayne Foundation paid her off. She wasn't happy about that, but she kept quiet," said Alfred.

"Perhaps she's speaking up now," said Blake.

"So you think she's going to blow up Wayne Manor?" asked Alfred.

"That wouldn't matter to Sionis," said Blake as he but his mask on.

"Then she's going to destroy Wayne Tower?" asked Alfred.

"I would think so," said Blake. "Sionis cares about that company. She's going to kill Sionis the only way she knows how. And Sionis won't even suspect it."

"You need to get there immediately. I'll prepare the Tumbler," said Alfred turning from the computer. Blake shook his head.

"No…I have a better idea," said Blake.

…

The Bat rose into the afternoon sky. Skyscrapers and buildings began to appear on the horizon from the woods. A radio crackled through as Nightwing steered the Bat.

"You do know how to fly that, right?" asked Alfred.

"I've had a few helicopter flying lessons. And I read the manual," said Nightwing.

"I guess that's more than Master Bruce had," said Alfred. "Do you want me to do anything?"

"Try to get in touch with Gordon. I can't seem to reach him," said Blake.

"Of course. Also, there's something you should know about. It would appear that Gotham has labelled you public enemy number one. Officers are ordered to shoot to kill," said Alfred.

"On who's orders?" asked Blake.

"Commissioner Lucas mayor's moved up Comissioner Gordon's ousting," said Alfred.

"For what reason?" asked Blake.

"That's the million dollar question, Mr. Blake," said Alfred. "I'll keep investigating."

The Bat was seen from below by several people. Blake eyed the time. According to what Ivy said, he had 25 minutes until the bomb would go off. He would not let the tower fall.

…

Thomas Elliot looked over Gordon's x-rays. He sighed as he walked into the room where Gordon was recovering.

"Is it bad?" asked Gordon.

"It could've been worse, Commissioner. The bullet didn't shatter the bone, but it's sliced up the rotator cuff pretty bad," said Dr. Elliot

"Will it heal?" asked Gordon.

"It will need time. But yes, it will heal. You need to lie low," said Elliot. Gordon looked away from Elliot.

"Tell me about it," said Gordon.

…

Nightwing burst through the window of Wayne Enterprises. He pressed a button on his mask allowing him to scan for traces of the bomb. He looked left and right until the mask buzzed and hissed and the scanning processor shut down. Blake clicked the button again, turning it off.

_I should've had Fox test it before I did, _thought Blake. He would have to do this the old fashioned way. But he honestly had no idea where Ivy would plant her bomb. He wondered if there was anyone in the building. He didn't know how much time was left and he didn't care. He had to find the bomb.

…

From miles away Ivy looked at Wayne Tower as she stood onto of her apartment roof. She green emerald dress flapped in the wind. She smiled as she pulled out a detonator.

"Ashes ashes…we all fall down," she said. She pressed the detonator and watched as a fiery explosion erupted from the upper floors of Wayne Tower. A tower of smoke followed.

…

The force of the explosion shot Blake out a different window. He began to fall down to the unforgiving earth. He heard the voices in his head of his past. It was about that night…many years ago.

…

Blake sat in his father's study as the man with greying black hair, a black business suit, and a clean shaven face stumbled around the office gathering all the money he could find. Blake watched his father.

"Daddy…I thought you were going to take me to school," said the little boy no older than six. The man looked at his son. He stopped and approached his son. He had only gathered a few rogue dollars. He smiled as he brushed the boy's long curly hair out of his face.

"We'll leave in a minute, pal. I promise. Daddy has a very important business man coming and he has to be ready for him. Why don't you read your book? You like that book, right?" asked the man. The boy nodded. He went and sat down in the oversized arm chair and pulled out a Curious George book.

Then there was a knock on the front door of the house. The man stood up and looked at the front door. He walked over to his son.

"Robin, you need to stay here. I'll be right outside. I'm going to talk to this man but I need you to play hide and seek for me. Can you do that?" asked the boy's father. The boy nodded as he looked up from the colorful book of pictures. "You need to stay here. I'll be right back. I love you, Robin."

"I love you too, Daddy," said the boy. The man hugged the little boy as another harder knock on the door sounded. He then left the study and locked the door behind him. He walked down the hall and opened the door.

A long blond haired man with a goatee stood in the doorway. He was wearing a torn and beaten up green jacket and smelled of cigarettes.

"You owe a lot of money, Mr. Grayson to some very powerful people. You have it?" asked the man.

"I don't have all of it, Anthony…but please…give me another month and I'll have the money," said Mr. Grayson. Anthony Zucco pulled out a small revolver from his coat.

"You don't have another month, Mr. Grayson," said Zucco. "Turn around and get on the ground."

"What…no…please, Anthony. Don't do this," said Grayson as he began to sob.

"Turn the hell around and get on the ground!" yelled the man. It was the yelling that attracted the boy to watch the scene. In the study, the little boy put down his book as he went to the window. The blinds were down put he saw the scene of his father getting down on his knees and turning around. The other man held a gun in his hand and pointed it at the back of his father's head. The little boy thought he was watching one of his shows on tv and one of the superheroes would come in and stop the bad guy. The father looked at the study. Right into Blake's eyes as the gun was fired. The little boy covered his mouth and closed his eyes as the sound of his father's lifeless body hit the floor with a resounding thud. He began to cry. The tears stung his face as he ducked down away from the window. He must've made noise because the man began jiggling the door knob to the study. The boy froze in fear. He closed his eyes and covered his mouth even harder. He then heard the jiggling stop and there was nothing but silence. The boy sat in the study for a long time until he heard the sound of police sirens and a young man stepped into the house.

"Hello?" he asked with his gun raised. The boy was frightened yet again. He dove under the desk and waited. Someone began with the doorknob again and the boy covered his mouth and closed his eyes. There was knocking on the door. "GCPD, please open up," said the officer. The boy still didn't move. The officer kicked down the door and entered the room. He stopped as he heard sobbing. He walked in the direction of the desk. He bent down and saw the shaken little boy.

"Hey…it's ok, pal. Everything going to be ok," said the officer with a bushy brown moustache and wavy brown hair. He smiled at the little boy. The boy came out from underneath the desk and buried his face into the officer. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." He took the boy in his arms and led him away from the scene, covering his eyes from the corpse and the carnage, although the officer was sure that the boy had already seen a great deal of that. He took the little boy to the patrol car and sat him in the backseat. He then sat in the front seat of the car as he grabbed the small radio.

"This is Lieutenant James Gordon, I have a murder victim. Please send back up to 34th street and house number 16. I'm taking a witness back to the station," said Gordon. He turned around and looked at the boy. "It's going to be ok, son," said Gordon smiling at him.

…

Twelve years passed and here he was.

Going in and out of consciousness, Blake was sure that this was the end. He then held his arms straight out and the cape popped out into the bat like wings and he glided to safety. The memory haunted him to this day.

He then watched as helicopters began circling around the Wayne Tower. Firetrucks and police cars sounded around him. He pressed a button on his arm and saw, from a distance, The Bat flying towards his location. He ran as he jumped off the building and glided into the cockpit of The Bat. He got situated and saw several police helicopters begin to follow him. He began to rise as The Bat ascended into the jungle of towers and skyscrapers. The choppers began to open fire on Nightwing. He flipped left as he avoided the gun fire. Nightwing knew that there was only one escape from these choppers. He typed in the address Fox gave him. He set The Bat on auto pilot as it began to go quickly towards the location Blake typed in. Eventually, it began to descend as The Bat approached the West Docks. He waited until The Bat was hovering as the choppers began to catch up and the patrol cars began to follow. Sirens blaring. Lights flashing. Blake opened the cockpit and jumped into the exacting water below. The cops got out of their cars and watched as The Bat flew off. They saw him jump but they didn't see anything else.

"Get the boats. We're going to have to shut down these docks until we find a body," said one of the captains of the patrol. "We're not letting this bastard get away." It was then that a light showed underwater and the sound of an engine was heard. The officers watched as the light rose to the surface.

A metallic aquatic vehicle broke the surface.

"What the hell is that?" asked one of the officers.

It was a good question. This was Fox's latest project. A shiny silver told Blake that Fox didn't even have time to paint it black. He didn't give it a name but Blake thought that Raven was a good name for it. The Raven looked almost exactly like The Tumbler except it had more fins designed for moving underwater. It was sleek and it was fast. Blake turned the new vehicle around. The vehicle was covered in bright blue light as the headlights and rear lights shone. Nightwing then sped away and descended into the depths.

"Damn…where does this guy get all this stuff?" one of the officers asked. A different officer turned to the captain.

"Should I still call those boats, sir?" asked the officer. The captain was stunned by the new vehicle.

The Raven used a high powered rotor to speed away underwater. Nightwing turned off the lights and used the navigation system to get back to the cave. He had to find a place to park the vehicle first, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he needed time to reflect and bury the past again.

…

Sionis walked through the Narrows of Gotham. He was alive and had no idea what had just happened in his office. He walked into the smoke filled club and saw a show in progress. A puppet show. People were laughing as the man talked in gruff voice and asked the puppet questions. Sionis asked for a menu and sat down in a booth. He watched as this man performed. The puppet was wearing a 1950s gangster outfit, hat and all. He had a big scar down its face.

"Are you sure that you don't care about those rich people, Mr. Scarface?" asked the elderly gentlemen.

"Hey, dummy. I don't ask you multiple questions…why you doing it to me? I think we know who needs a ventriloquist," said the dummy. There were snickers of laughter.

"What about this new Batman, Mr. Scarface?" asked the old man.

"Ha! The new Batman. Ain't he a clown. He reminds me of you, dummy. Trying to be someone you're not," said Scarface.

"And who am I trying to be, Mr. Scarface?" asked the ventriloquist.

"Smart," said Scarface. Sionis laughed and the applause roared from the audience.

…

It was late and Sionis saw that most of the people had already left. He walked up to the old man and began his conversation.

"That was a nice show. Not many people get to spit in the face of us rich folk," said Sionis. The old man was shocked to see this man.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Sionis. I meant no offense," said the man.

"None taken," said Sionis. He extended his hand. "Roman Sionis." The man did likewise.

"Arthur Wesker," said the elderly man.

"Mr. Wekser…I feel I will have need of your talents in the future," said Sionis. He pulled out a piece of paper and wrote something very quickly down. "Here's my number. I'll be in touch."

Sionis then walked out of the club.

**Sorry about the wait. But this chapter took a lot of planning. I can honestly say that I've never had a better half way point than this one. Don't worry, Freeze is still alive. The bomb went off on the top floor in Sionis' office. Applied Science is in the basement. Freeze will never know about the bomb and the cops can't get into the Applied Science. The tower is still standing…for now. Now, the Raven…this vehicle is my brainchild. Well, actually, my story editor told me to come up with an aquatic Tumbler and I did just that. It's my new favorite vehicle. And The Bat returned. And you got a piece of Blake's past. All in all, I'm happy with this chapter. Now, let's go watch the Super Bowl! Or at least watch the funny commercials. **

**Also…**

**A BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT**

**Since some of you really like my author's notes. I've decided to take this time to announce that you will get to ask me questions and they will appear in the chapter! How exciting is that?!**

**Not…not that exciting? **

**Ok…what if I said that all you have to do is pm me your questions and two randomly selected questions will be put in the beginning and end of the chapter!**

**Still not getting you? **

**Fine…what if I said that these questions can be about anything?! And I mean anything! **

**Ok…still nothing. **

**I guess you must be upset that I've wasted precious time and a chapter to tell you about this little brief announcement…**

**But fear not…for within this announcement I would like to make an announcement by announcing the villains of the sequel that will air in 2014! They are as followed; Ventriloquist/Scarface, The Riddler, and Black Mask. **

**I will not spoil the miniseries for you. You'll have to wait. Which…now that I think about it…that was kinda stupid. You guys already knew at least two of those villains. **

**Also, I have another announcement to make…there will be an audiobook of The Nightwing, done by me, that will air on YouTube sometime this year. I might make it an audio drama…who knows? I certainly don't. So, this project…which started out very small and I didn't expect it to become much of anything and certainly wasn't going to make it 50 chapters long with a sequel and miniseries planned…it has really become something big and I seriously want to thank each and every one of you for taking time out of your day and reading through the grammar errors and misspelled and missing words. This story has received over 100 reviews and nearly 5,000 views in what amounts to 2 months. I'm counting December as the official month of production due to the hiatus before in August. So, thank you all for this milestone and I promise that when you're sitting down reading this next to your fireplace on your laptop or on your illegally printed copy of this story…that's right I know what you do. Just kidding. Just don't sell it until I contact Warner Bros. and ask if we can either self-publish or make these mass produced sequels to The Dark Knight Trilogy. The answer will probably be no…but it doesn't hurt to ask. Does it? I will send the finalized and edited version in May to Warner Bros., Legendary Pictures, Syncopy, and DC comics…perhaps I'll try to send a copy to Christopher Nolan and see what he thinks. NO THIS DOESN'T MEAN THAT THIS WILL BE A MOVIE. I just want to try my luck and make this a novelization series. They did it with Jurassic Park III and Aliens and other movies…perhaps they'll do it with The Dark Knight Trilogy. Next chapter will be here soon! See ya!**

**TNO**


	26. The Nightwing Part 2 Trailer

The Nightwing Part 2 Trailer

**Just thought I'd tease a little bit of what is to come in March. Don't forget to keep track of the BANE series as you wait. Everything in this trailer will be in the final 25 chapters. A lot is going to go down. Also, sign this petition if you want to have a nice paperback copy of The Nightwing. I need roughly 100 signatures, maybe more, in order to send my book off to DC Comics, Legendary Pictures, Warner Bros. Pictures, and Christopher Nolan. Sign the petition here: **** petitions/warner-bros-pictures-legendary-pictures-dc-comics-and-christopher-nolan-endorse-the-production-of-a-novel-sequel-series-to-the-dark-knight-trilogy**

Darkness. Then an overview of Gotham City.

"You think you can protect them?" asked a male voice. "You don't know a thing about sacrifice, Mr. Blake."

John Blake sits in a forest as a woman approaches him. A woman in a long flowing green dress. The moonlight lets us only see her silhouette.

"These people want to see a hero. They had their hero. They watched him die," the male voice continued.

A needle is stuck into someone's arm. The man, who is Desmond, becomes violent as he throws the equipment to the floor. He looks into the camera.

Sionis stands in his office as Nightwing, bloodied and weak, stands a few feet from him.

"But if you think you have what it takes…come get me," says Sionis raising his arms. Nightwing runs towards him as we cut to-

Darkness.

A plane takes off from the ground as Mr. Freeze presses a detonator. The plane flies a little more…then the tail explodes. It spins wildly to the ground. Mr. Freeze picks up a rocket launcher and fires it at the plane. Destroying it.

The rain falls hard as John Blake looks at the grave of his father.

"I know I promised to protect this city. But how much am I going to lose in the process?" asks Blake standing in front of Alfred.

A machine gun fires randomly around a bank as Mr. Freeze walks in.

Explosions are seen all around Gotham as Ivy walks through the shower of sparks and rubble.

Gordon raises his gun to Sionis.

Wayne Manor is on fire as a section of the house begins to collapse.

Wayne Enterprises, engulfed in flames, begins to collapse around Nightwing. He runs towards the window, pushing rubble out of his way. Only to begin to fall into the flames below. He continues towards the window as a large section of floor begins to fall on him. We cut to-

Darkness.

"There's something else you should know, Mr. Blake. I've only begun," says Sionis' voice.

THE NIGHTWING PART 2

MARCH 2013


	27. The Nightwing Official Trailer 3-01-13

presents….

A TNO production…

Darkness…

An overview of Gotham City, smoke bellows all around it as another explosion destroys the tranquil view of the city. The explosion was Wayne Enterprises. The building continues to suffer explosion after explosion until it begins to collapse.

"You call yourself a hero, Mr. Blake?"

Darkness…

Blake is propped against a tree. He cannot move. He is bloodied and bruised. He looks broken.

Darkness…

"You think anyone will care or worship you when you are gone?"

The city view is interrupted as the Bat is shot out of the sky.

"Look around you, Mr. Blake. Look around and wake up."

Darkness…

Gordon aims his gun at Blake, a tear rolls down his face as he pulls the trigger.

"I've already won."

Darkness…

Blake, standing in the doorway dressed in his Nightwing suit, looks at the figure who has been talking.

"This isn't over yet," says Blake.

"I've only begun," said Sionis.

THIS FRIDAY…

Mr. Freeze kicks down the door to the bank and begins firing his machine gun all around the room.

Ivy smiles as an explosion goes off behind her.

The Bat, which was shot down, explodes and crashes into a building.

BRACE YOURSELF…

Nightwing is surrounded by Gotham police officers.

Alfred watches Blake walk away from him. He gets up and shouts at him.

"Get back here and finish what you started!" he yells.

FOR THE BEGINNING…

Sionis laughs as he jumps out of a building.

Nightwing falls from a building as he tries to glide but can't do so.

OF THE END

Wayne Manor is on fire.

Desmond throws all of his things off his desk.

Nightwing races towards a building as a huge explosion knocks him back.

THE NIGHTWING

Sionis is standing in front of an open window.

"Let's face it, Mr. Blake. We all have a mask to hide behind."

He says as he puts on a black skull mask.

3/01/13


	28. TWENTY SIX

**TWENTY SIX**

Ah it's good to be back after three long weeks! These last 25 chapters are going to fly by so fast. So much will happen! So many will die. Here's a spoiler for you…Nightwing dies. You heard it from me, folks! Nightwing will not be in the next sequel. But…enough about that! Major news! The Bane Series will end soon, sorry about the delay. The Joker Blogs will continue…but something else is being written. A nice live action web series. What's it called? IfATreEFalls. Filming for the first season will take place over the summer and the web series will be released this fall. I cannot tell you what the project is about…but there's a story that I'm making right now called IfATreEFalls: Faceless. Go read that and you should have some idea. So, what does this mean for other projects I had scheduled for this** summer? Well, it means that the Jurassic Park tv series is getting pushed back. I would love to work on that sometime, but now is not the best time. For Walking Dead fans, I will be making a season 4 fanfic based on the tv series. There will also be a fic set between seasons 2 and 3. But, more importantly to this story, the miniseries, Flames, will be pushed back to a late summer release. This is a 25 chapter story telling you what happens in the year between The Nightwing and The New Knight. You will have to read the Bane Series to understand this miniseries. So, everything is just going to get pushed back a little as I squeeze this new project in. Go check out the prologue to the prequel story now and then come back and read this…or vice versa: ** s/9057439/1/IfATreEFalls-Faceless

Mark Desmond flicks the needle, making sure the serum is just the right amount. He walks over to a video camera and presses the button. The red light begins flashing. He is dressed in his lab coat and it looks as if several weeks have passed. Desmond has clearly been testing the serum already. He leans in as he talks to the camera.

"Day 43 of the Dequil trials. Slight muscle growth has resulted. Some violent behavior has occurred. One such incident is during bright light, my mind will move to a more animalistic state as it begins to grow violent. The cancer cells have had a slight reduction but are still present. This is the twelfth dose of the serum. I am monitoring all results and behaviors associated with the drug. The drug is a more advanced form of the safflower drug used by some body builders. I've extracted more of the enzymes and nutrients to create a pure radical treatment to reduce cancer cells. I have a friend to thank for the safflower. Dr. Pamala Isley," said Desmond. He looked away from the camera. "Let's begin."

He walks away from the camera and over to a table. He rolls up his right sleeve. He arm is pulsing with huge veins and his muscles are very detailed. He picks up the needle and slowly sticks it into one of the showing veins. He then injects the fluid into his body. He breathes in deeply and exhales. He closes his eyes. And then opens them. He smiles.

"God…this feels amazing. It honestly feels like my entire body is growing and expanding as the drug moves through my body. Now…I'm going to do some tests to see if I can control the violent behavior. One such thing that I've observed is that the violence is connected to pain, bright light, and anger. Usually caused by the first two. So, let's test it, shall we?" asked Desmond. He walks away from the table and flicks on the big overhead lights to the lab. The place begins to glow in the white light. Desmond runs back to the camera.

"I'm not getting anything yet…but I am feeling like a god," said Desmond. "Let's move on to phase two."

He picks up a scalpel and stabs himself in lower abdomen. He groans in pain. Blood begins to pour from his wound. He begins to hold his head as the lights begin to flicker on and off. Brightness is overcome by darkness and then it repeats itself. The flickering has caused Desmond to fall to the floor. The camera continues rolling as another two seconds of darkness hit.

Then the lights are on again. But Desmond, from the camera's angle, is not where he was before. Another two seconds of darkness. The light comes on again. Desmond, now holding the camera speaks directly to whoever is watching it.

"I'm coming after you, Sionis. You can run. You can hide. But I'll find you and break every bone in your body. I'll kill you Roman. I'll kill you!" said Desmond throwing the camera aside. The camera lands upside down and Desmond throws everything off the table. He begins destroying everything in the lab. And then, the lights stop flickering. Desmond stops. He looks around frantically at what he's done. He looks over to the camera. He runs over to it and, with a look of horror on his face, he turns it off.

…

A car pulled up to a graveyard. One that Blake was quite familiar with. Over the years he often would come here and pay his respects to two people. He got out of his car and walked silently over to two graves that sat near the middle of the cemetery. Blake sighed as he knelt down next to them.

"I guess there's not much to say at this point. There's never anything to say, is there?" Blake said to the graves. He looked away. "People tell me that there's a time and a place to say things but…what do you say now? What do you say when you know that no matter what…nothing's going to change? I thought about you two the other day. I was sitting in the penthouse. Just doing normal things. And I remembered back to that day…the day we went for ice cream. Before you died, mom. It was one of those memories that I can't explain why or how I brought it up…but it was there. We were all happy. You told your funny joke to mom again and all three of us were laughing. Then I opened my eyes. And I remembered where you were. Nobody deserves this. But it happens. A man once told me…he asked me 'Why do we fall'. I know the answer now…but why did I have to fall so far."

Blake rose and looked back at the graves

"I don't know why I'm doing this…" said Blake turning from the graves. "I'm just talking to some stones." He walked away.

…

Sionis walks into the restored Wayne Tower. He looked around. _It's amazing what can be done in just one month_, Sionis thought to himself. Then again the explosion wasn't that bad. No real damage to the structure. Just a whole lot of fire and smoke. The firemen handled it well and, to Sionis's luck, Nightwing was blamed. Of course, he knew who really tried to kill him and if he hadn't gone to see Wesker he would be dead right now. But he had some loose ends to tie up. He walked to the elevator and pulled out a key. He turned the key for the elevator to go to the basement. Sionis was glad that the Applied Science Lab was unharmed. The elevator descended and the doors opened as Sionis stepped out into the lab. A large spherical object was on the table. Sionis smiled.

"How's it going?" asked Sionis. Freeze emerged from around it. He said, quite plainly.

"It's operational."

"Good. When can you have it where we need it?" asked Sionis.

"When do you need it?" Freeze asked.

"In two days," said Sionis.

"Who is the target, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Freeze. Sionis smiled.

"Someone you want to see die," said Sionis. "Is there anything else you need for this project?"

"One more component. A delivery crew," said Freeze. Sionis smiled and pulled a handgun from his pocket.

"Go get one," said Sionis. He walked out of the lab.


	29. TWENTY SEVEN

TWENTY SEVEN

**Well, I know the last chapter wasn't the kick start to the action filled back half as you wanted…but it certainly sets up a lot of new things here. It's been two month since the events in Chapter 25. Not much has happened. It's been very slow. Blake has been taking a step back to explore his own past a little more. Also…that spoiler…I never said Blake was going to die, did I? I just said Nightwing will. I said Nightwing will not be in the sequel. What could I possibly mean? Does this spoiler answer questions or raise more? I guess you'll have to finish the story to find out. :)**

Mark Desmond stopped the car in front of the airport. His appearance has changed drastically. His long hair and round sun glasses make the man look like someone he never was. He is dressed in an old white t-shirt and jeans. He sighs as he exits the vehicle. A security officer noticed him as he opens the trunk and pulls out a black carry on suitcase. The officer walks over to the former scientist. He slams the trunk shut and looked at the minor dent he made on the trunk of the car.

"Sir, this is a no park zone," said the officer.

"Then tow the son of a bitch. I don't care," said Desmond.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step aside please," said the officer. Desmond smiles. He chuckles showing his teeth. He composes himself.

"You can try," said Desmond. "I'd recommend letting me get on that plane." He then puts a stack of cash in his hand. Several hundred dollar bills sit in the cop's hand. Desmond smiles and says. "Or I can break every bone in your body."

The cop clears his throat.

"We'll tow your vehicle, sir. Sorry for the disturbance," said the officer as he stows the cash in his pocket.

Desmond smiles and proceeds into the airport.

…

A man knocks on the apartment building. He knocked again and a third time. An elderly white-haired woman opens the door. She looks at the man with a confused look.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the woman. The man is Mr. Freeze. She was awe struck by the appearance of this man in a suit.

"You called about pest control?" asked Freeze. The woman nodded.

"I must say I like the new uniforms," said the elderly woman.

"I need you to evacuate the building," said Freeze. The woman looked puzzled.

"For how long?" she asked.

"Half an hour," said the man. His voice was cold and dark. The woman nodded.

"Ok. Do I get a discount if you go over that time?" asked the woman. Freeze looked at the woman. He then looked back at the small van parked by the curb. He was running out of time. He grabbed the woman's head and smashed her head against the door.

"I'm sorry," Freeze stated. He moved into the house.

…

Desmond continued his way through the airport. He looked at the time. 11: 43am. His plane would be taking off at noon. He already checked his baggage and he needed to go to Terminal C. That was on the other side of the large airport. C17. That's where he needed to be. He was at Terminal M now.

…

Freeze pulled out his phone. He dialled a number quick.

"Sionis," answered the voice.

"I'm here. Are your men in position?" Freeze asked. Sionis hesitated a minute.

"I think they are. But this is your mission, not mine. I told them where to be," said Sionis.

"Is the bomb-"

"Yes," Sionis cut Freeze off. "It's there and it's armed. You have the detonator. My men will communicate with you. They will tell you when he is on the plane."

Freeze sighed.

"Let's hope," he said. Sionis hung up and Freeze did likewise.

Sionis developed a new suit for Victor over the last two months. Something that was a little more mobile. He was able to create a vapour serum of the drug for Freeze to breathe in. It allowed Freeze to communicate and disguise himself more cleverly. All he had on was a business suit, a gas mask over his mouth and nose, red goggles that covered his eyes, and two one gallon tanks on his back that acted more like scuba tanks. Actually, that's what Sionis thought the device looked like. It was another one of Fox's old projects. Something he probably meant to give to Batman but never had the chance. Sionis hired a private engineer and he and Freeze worked on the conversion during the spare time they had with the bombs. Sionis had been a busy man since the explosion two months ago. He was practically running the city. With the GCPD and the mayor on his side, there wasn't anyone who could really stop him. No one except Mark Desmond. He knew Sionis' dark secrets. He tried to throw it to the world once. But Sionis shut the rumor up before it began saying that Mark Desmond had been experimenting different drugs on himself. Desmond lost all credibility and made it onto Sionis' personal hit list. It was worth the waste of one bomb.

…

Desmond found his Terminal and began looking for the loading platform he was meant to get on. It was 11:53. He had to hurry if he was to make the plane. He spotted it. C17. He ran quickly to the platform and gave the flight attendant his ticket. She smiled at him.

"Enjoy your flight," she said.

"Thank you," said Desmond. He began to walk down the platform to the plane.

A man, who had been sitting in one of the many chairs on the platform reached into his dark coat and pulled his phone out. He got a text message.

Where is your target?

The man sat there and typed a message back.

On the plane.

…

Freeze went back to the car and grabbed a suit case and a large box. He carried the two of them up the stairs of the old woman's house. He kept going up until he saw the fire escape out the window. He smashed his elbow into the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. He began climbing up the platform to the roof. Right behind him was the airport and the runway where planes were taking off. Of course the airport was some distance from the rows of apartment buildings and city life. But Gotham International Airport was a huge structure and one of the most popular airports in the Northeast. More so than Metropolis. Freeze threw the suitcase and box onto the roof before climbing up himself. He opened the 3 foot long case to reveal a rocket launcher with two rockets inside. There was a note also inside.

Just in case…

He wished he knew what was in the case before he threw it on the roof. He opened the box to reveal a tablet computer with another note on it.

Now, you can watch him die…

Freeze smiled behind the gas mask like device. He inhaled as he pulled out another device from the box. It was a detonator.

…

Desmond took a seat on the aircraft as he sighed and closed his eyes. A man sat next to him. He was a strange man with glasses. He was reading a Gotham newspaper.

_Reporter,_ Desmond thought. The man looked at Desmond.

"You ever been to Metropolis?" the man asked. Desmond looked at the man.

"No. Can't say I have," said Desmond. The man looked at him.

"It's a beautiful city. Not that Gotham isn't…it's just cleaner. Crime wise," said the man. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Clark." The man extended a hand.

Desmond took it and shook.

"Cyrus Grundy," Desmond lied.

"Grundy? Is that Latin?" asked Clark.

"Something like that," said Desmond. He decided to use his grandmother's maiden name, Grundy. Cyrus was his middle name. Clark eyed the man's muscular stature.

"You work out?" asked Clark.

"When I get the chance," said Desmond. The plane door closed and the pilot's voice was heard as the plane began to move.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We hope you have a great flight with us to Metropolis today. We're expecting perfect skies and very little turbulence today which means you picked the best day to fly to Metropolis. Our flight is expected to be forty minutes. Please ask the stewardess if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. Thank you and have a nice flight," the pilot finished.

…

Freeze pulled out the detonator and turned on the tablet. He looked at the detonator and then at the video on the tablet. He saw Desmond in one of the seats. Freeze became fuelled with rage as he saw the plane begin down the runway. Freeze grabbed the detonator and pressed the button.

The explosion shook the airport as Freeze saw a huge explosion come from somewhere in Terminal C. Desmond caught on to their plot. He left his suitcase behind. Freeze grabbed the rocket launcher and loaded a rocket. The plane was now off the ground and began to fly over the Gotham harbor. He aimed the rocket launcher at the plane and fired it. The rocket took off and within moments it hit the right engine. The plane erupted in flames and smoke as it dive bombed and spiralled into the harbor.

Freeze lowered the launcher and placed it back in the suitcase. He watched the whole thing happen on the tablet. Desmond was dead. His seat was right next to the right engine. He smiled as the tablet was saying no video signal found. He packed up the tablet and detonator into the box and climbed down the building into the old woman's apartment. He went down the stairs and saw the still unconscious and bleeding old woman. He closed the front door as he walked out, threw the box and placed the case in the van and then drove off into the city.

**Sorry for the delay. Hope you all liked the Solomon Grundy nod and the Superman nod. I don't plan on having a zombie super villain in this series but I liked that I gave a wink to that. And so, we move forward. Now knowing Desmond is dead and we still have sixteen chapters left! (Yeah I shortened it to 43 chapters…the extended and revised edition will have 50 something) So, I bet you're all wondering what will happen next. How can I top a chapter like this one? Where was Blake when you need him? All those questions and more will be revealed on the next chapter of The Nightwing. **


	30. A Very Important Announcement

**A Very Important Announcement**

So, I'm sure by now you've noticed that I've not been posting chapters like crazy. Why? It's simple. This draft version has lost its luster to me. There's so much I've changed in the final draft and so much I want to change that I just don't want to finish this one anymore. But…it's not about what I want, it's about what you want. The fans.

Therefore, you get to decide. Do you want me to continue with this draft version of this story or do you want me to start giving you The Nightwing Revised, Extended, and Edited Version. This one has some much that the draft does not including a bonus five chapters that go into Blake's training. Mr. Freeze is changed, Sionis is more sinister, and Ivy…well…Ivy has a more tragic backstory. I will be working with someone else and together we will both make this story more like my Joker Blogs Season 1 story. So, again, I'm asking you. There will be similar scenes and the aquatic Tumbler will be in there. All the stuff in those epic trailers will be in there. The bad news is if you choose this route…you'll have to start back at the beginning. But the good news is it won't take six months for us to get to the end. Because most of the chapters are already written.

So, leave a comment in the reviews about whether or not you want the new version or this old version.


	31. Author's Note 6113

**Author's Note**

**Due to the popularity of the draft version of the sequel fanfic story to The Dark Knight Rises, I have decided to give The Nightwing a true story. Something that my fans will love and new fans will be addicted to. Let me explain why I've chosen this route. **

**This story was something I conceived almost a year ago. My goal was to finish this story 3 months ago but I wasn't liking the direction it was going in. It didn't provide John Blake the backstory that made Begins so good. After pouring through comic books and wondering how to make an ex-cop a crime fighting, ninja-like detective…it finally came to me. The only way to get that…is to find a way to connect the story to the predecessors. And I was finally able to do that. I felt that the draft contained too many villains and not enough story. (There were 4 villains in the draft for Christ's sake.) **

**So, I've slimmed the villain count down. I've given the sequel a revamped attitude. We see more of Blake's past. We understand more of why this character is not comfortable being Batman. And we will see how things come full circle with The Dark Knight Trilogy. **

**Please keep in mind that this is a totally different story. Don't ask about Bruce Wayne or Selina Kyle. If they show up, they show up. But this is Blake's story. Not theirs. Kinda like The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Some characters may show up and it was nice to see Frodo again, but don't expect Frodo to be in the movie all the time. **

**And, no. Superman will not be in this story either. (At least not until I see Man of Steel.) **

**Lastly, I regret to say that the new knight will die, the old knight will rise, then fall; leaving only resurrection **

**Remember…nothing is as it seems. I have just spoiled the ending to the four stories. But…you'll never see these endings coming. **

**Thanks to you, my fans! I've gotten many positive reviews from the draft. Allow me to tell you the story I wanted to tell the first time. **

**-DB**

**P.S. I will confirm that there will be 4 main novella length fics and 3 shorter ones that fall in between the four. So, for a total of 7 fics about John Blake. Many, many villains will be in these stories. **


End file.
